Searching for Solas
by DalishPhoenix
Summary: Based upon my romance with Solas as a Dalish Mage, Arissa. It has been six months since the defeat of Corypheus, and six months since Solas's unexpected departure from Skyhold. Despite searching continuously, the mysterious Elf has yet to be found. A heartbroken Inquisitor has barely left her room.
1. Sorrow

**Solas Fanfiction – Searching for Solas.**

 **(Based on my own Inquisitor; a Dalish Mage.)**

Arissa slammed her fist down onto the War Table, glaring at the advisors, before spinning on her heels and storming out. The doors swung shut behind her, leaving Leliana, Josephine and Cullen standing in stunned silence. Cullen was the first to break it.

'Well,' he sighed, 'That went superbly, I thought.' The two women looked at him incredulously. 'Seriously?'

Leliana raised an eyebrow. 'Solas has been gone for six months, we're no closer to finding him than we were after defeating Corypheus, and Arissa is close to jumping off her balcony? Yes, a _superb_ outcome, Cullen.' Despite the somber atmosphere, Josephine hid a smile behind her hand, grateful that, for once, she wasn't on the receiving end of Leliana's sharp tongue.

Cullen shrugged. 'Just trying to lighten the mood.' He frowned. 'What about Morrigan? She's easily one of the most powerful mages in Orlais and Fereldan…maybe she could try to track him? If Solas was a Circle Mage we could have just used his phylactery…damn.' He looked to the women. 'Leliana, you travelled with Morrigan, perhaps you know where she might be, or know how to contact her? Josephine, surely we can ask around in the Orlesian court?' Cullen sighed, and ran his hand through his hair. 'I'll go and check on Arissa.' He, too, left through the great doors, leaving Josephine and Leliana to peruse the War Table.

'We've already sent word to the reformed Mages, to Alistair, and no one has heard from or seen Morrigan since the Battle of Skyhold,' Josephine recounted. 'Unless she is once again hiding in the Game, or in the Wilds with Kieran, it is as if she has simply disappeared.'

Leliana smiled as a new idea came upon her. 'Alistair has not heard from Morrigan, no? But he would absolutely refuse to lose his son again. I'll send word to the Hero of Ferelden, to Aurelie. Perhaps she'll be more willing to give up Morrigan – no doubt she finds Kieran's existence a difficulty.' Her eyes softened with memory. 'Convincing Alistair that night…such bravery I had only thought came from Andraste.' Leliana shook her head, clearing her mind, before turning back to Josephine. 'You try Alistair again,' she commanded, 'And I'll send a raven to Aurelie.'

Having been waylaid with various reports on his way, it took some time before Cullen was able to make his way to Arissa's quarters. He hesitated before knocking on the Inquisitor's door. He could hear noise from inside; the sound of magic, accompanied by intermittent swearing and…giggling? He knocked twice, cautiously, and the sounds immediately ceased. The door opened, revealing Sera in what Cullen could only describe as the most disgusting pair of pyjama's he had ever seen – and Cullen had two sisters. 'Who is it?!' Sera said, in a sing-song voice, then stopped abruptly as she recognised Cullen. 'Ew! No boys allowed!' she said, then stopped as a gentler voice came from within. 'Who is it, Sera?' Cullen motioned behind Sera, who grudgingly stepped back to allow him up the stairs. What he saw made his Templar self twitch. The walls and ceilings were covered in ice, of which electricity sparked off all over. Remnants of green fog hung about like clouds and on the balcony, a discarded staff lay on the floor, electricity still crackling amongst the tip. Squinting, Cullen could just about make out a curled up figure leaning against the stone, shadowed except for the occasional spark drifting across a face.

Cullen looked back at Sera, who quickly motioned him outside. 'She looks so sad,' Cullen said quietly, and for once, Sera nodded without a smile on her face. 'Still don't understand what she saw in Solas,' she agreed, 'But she's barely smiled since he left. Today was a bad day, I think.' Cullen nodded. He smiled at Sera. 'She's lucky to have you as a friend, you know.' Sera looked smug. 'Even if she is a bit too elfy, she's still alright. And, you know, she needs someone. Someone who's gonna make her laugh a little bit.' Cullen nodded, then paused as he heard a muffled sob. Sera sighed. 'I know you guys had a little…. _thingy_ , so maybe she'll want to talk to you. Just be nice, yeah? Otherwise I'll stick arrows up your arse.' Cullen stepped back a little, startled at the ferocity in Sera's eyes.

'I swear on my honour as a member of the Inquisition,' Cullen swore gently, 'I will be as nice as I can be.' Satisfied, Sera headed out, no doubt to sneak some food from the kitchen. Meanwhile, Cullen reentered Arissa's chamber, heading to the ladder and climbing up. As he reached the balcony, Arissa tensed, reaching for her quilt and covering herself. She relaxed as she saw it was Cullen, and only as she turned her head did Cullen realise her face was shining with tears, the remnants of which, unchecked, were dripping onto her bedspread.

'Hey,' he said gently, clambering over to sit next to her. Arissa said nothing, merely leant into his shoulder. She began to cry and Cullen put his arms around her, pulling her close. Arissa sobbed into his shoulder and Cullen said nothing, did nothing, except hold her. He wasn't the right man, Cullen knew and understood that, but right now Arissa needed to feel someone strong holding her. As great as Sera probably was at cheering her up, Cullen knew from experience that everyone needed someone else to be strong once in a while.

Cullen didn't know how long they sat like that, him holding her, her collapsed in his arms. Eventually, however, she clasped her arms around his neck, and somehow Cullen instantly understood. Gently, carefully, he secured Arissa onto his back, before slowly descending the ladder. Once they reached the bottom, Cullen slowly turned, transferring Arissa, who had gone limp with sorrow, into his arms, and depositing her gently on the bed. As he did so, Sera reappeared from the shadows. Clearly, she had been waiting.

'I'd been trying to get her down from there for almost an hour. Her plus that staff? Equals bad stuff, you know?' Sera said quietly. Arissa seemed to have cried herself to sleep, and even in her dreams her mouth was curved, a tiny furrow appearing between her eyebrows. Suddenly, she smiled, relaxing as she sighed. 'Solas,' she whispered, and was still. Cullen turned to Sera curiously. Sera merely nodded. 'Dorian said that mages visit the Fade in their dreams easier than most. Maybe she's reliving her memories of Solas, or trying to find him or something.'

Cullen draped the quilt over the sleeping elf, before turning back to Sera. 'Look after her tonight,' he whispered. 'Let me know how she is in the morning.'


	2. Fadewalker

Arissa kissed Solas without warning, not even feeling the tiny flakes of snow settling on her face. Abruptly, she drew back, suddenly very aware of what she had just done. Solas was still staring at her in shock and amusement. Arissa began to turn away, but Solas caught her, his hands on her hips and back, and he pulled her close, and then he was kissing her, and then, my God, was he kissing her. Solas crushed Arissa to him, pulling her tight against his body, so tight she could feel both of their heartbeats, pounding against his chest. He released her slightly, pulling his head back in and staring at her in pure wonder. Arissa simply smiled, and, still passionate, curled a hand around his neck and pulled him back towards her, kissing him further.

If only it was real. Arissa watched her memory, her first kiss, end as Solas suddenly broke apart. Literally; her memory curled and smoked, turning into ashes that dissipated in a Fade wind. As it broke, however, Arissa suddenly sensed a spirit near her, watching the display. In a moment of pain, Arissa drew up the memory again, and watched herself over and over, somehow finding a way to slip back into the moment. Her Solas was here, he loved her, this Solas, at least, would never leave her. This Solas wanted nothing more than to kiss his love in the middle of the snow. As she kissed him, suddenly, the spirit she had sensed slipped into the memory, into…Solas? Arissa dissolved the memory abruptly, unwilling to kiss a spirit, but somehow the image of Solas remained behind, kissing her, until they were no longer in Haven, but in the Fade itself. Startled, Arissa pulled away, staring wide eyed at the spirit that had taken Solas's form. There was only one way it would do that.

'He's dead,' she whispered, broken. 'That's why you wear his face. Solas…no…' Arissa slumped to her knees, pressing her hands to her mouth. 'Emma lath, emma lath,' she whispered, and when the Spirit-Solas knelt before her, she only began to shake. Spirit-Solas took her hands, and held them gently, and soon Arissa began to understand his whisperings. 'Ma vhenan, ma vhenan,' he whispered. 'Ir abelas.' Hesitantly, he reached with one long finger to wipe away Arissa's tears, who was now staring at him in shock. 'I have been gone for too long, ma vhenan,' Solas whispered, and as he bent his head to kiss her, Arissa realised that Solas was not dead, he was here, Solas was alive and he was here and he loved her and then Solas kissed her, gentle and hesitant, so different from before, and Arissa's heart felt like it would burst. She did not know how long they kissed; all Arissa knew was that Solas was here, and he loved her.

For now, that knowledge was all she wanted.


	3. Return

Sera stirred, and as she opened her eyes there seemed to be someone, a shadow, at the end of the bed. Sera jumped in fright and the figure disappeared. Sera reached for her dagger, then stopped, and swore as she saw that Arissa, in the night, had moved to her couch. 'Arissa, you alright?' she asked, and Arissa sat up, awake. When she turned to Sera, tiny golden flames leapt from her hands, lighting the candle by her bed and the candles on the swinging chandelier. Tears were in her eyes, but for the first time in recent memory, Sera realised she was smiling.

Sera started smiling back. 'Good dream, yeah?' She giggled with glee, drawing her knees up to her chest. 'I want all the details!' Arissa shook her head. 'Sera,' she said softly. 'I found him.' Sera stilled. 'You…found him? Like, his spirit or something?' Arissa shook her head again, then jumped up, grabbing Sera's hands, and danced around the room. 'He's alive!' she sang out. 'He's alive and he loves me.'

For a moment, Sera was caught up in Arissa's joy, but then reality settled in. 'But you don't know where he is or anything…he's not even really there is he! And where the hell has he been for the past six months anyway?' Arissa stopped, dropping her hands. 'We need Morrigan, really,' she said thoughtfully. 'She's the most powerful mage we know of, and she's got experience in the Fade. Particularly after she walked in the Well of Sorrows.'

Sera nodded, agreeing. 'Get dressed then!' she ordered. 'You need to get up and around, show the Inquisition that you're still to be reckoned with. The others will be happy to see you looking better, too.' Arissa nodded, and Sera left to change her own clothes.

Arissa dressed fast, throwing on her travelling cloak for good measure. She would find Morrigan herself, and nothing would stop her. The Anchor pulsed gently on her hand, reminding Arissa of her Fade-walking dream from last night. As she had awoken, gently, it felt like Solas was there in the real world too. It had only been a memory of his spirit, Arissa knew that, but if the pounding of her heart was anything to go by, she couldn't wait to bring him home. As she entered the main hall, she saw people murmur at her arrival. No comfy clothes today, she had decided, and dressed for travelling, her favourite woollen cloak over a dark green tunic and some pale breeches. Arissa had customised her clothes further, adding silver shoulder guards and silver bracers, and filling her belt with various potions. Collecting her staff before she had left her room, Arissa looked like the Inquisitor once more. As the commotion grew at her arrival, more people came in from the courtyard, and the door to Josephine's office opened, with the woman herself peeping out shyly. When she saw Arissa, she rushed out, followed by Cullen and Leliana. Arissa went to the Inquisitor's chair, but did not sit. Standing in front of it, her staff crackling as her aura grew more and more excited, she cleared her throat. Silence fell.

'I have not been good to you,' she said, 'And I can only offer my apologies. You have all remained to help the Inquisition finish stopped the remnants of Corypheus's work. For the past six months, my advisors have kept me aware of matters, but I was not truly aware. I failed you all. And I am sorry.' She paused, watching Leliana, knowing that her words were echoing that of Divine Justinia's. 'But I have news.'

The hall buzzed, and the advisors looked to each other in confusion. 'I have had word of the elf mage Solas. He is alive. And I am going to find him. The Inquisition owes much to him – I owe him my life many times over. Without him we would know far less, perhaps nothing, about the Breach in the sky. We could not have defeated Corypheus, found Skyhold even, without his help.'

Arissa paused, watching the words ripple over her rapt audience. 'I will need volunteers to help. Messengers to be sent out. Spies to watch and discover. And some to stay at Skyhold. The Inquisition, to be a walking cliché, has become a family to me. And our family is not complete until we can bring Solas home.' Sera had followed the Inquisitor down from her room, and her eyes shone with pride. She jumped up besides her.

'For Solas!' she shouted. 'For the Herald! For the Inquisition!' The crowd erupted into cheers and woops, and in a slightly flashy display, several mages let off sparkling spells, creating fireworks within the great hall. As Arissa strode to her advisors, one thing was clear; the Inquisitor had truly returned, and she was on a mission.


	4. Explanation

Arissa led the way to the War Room, and it wasn't until the doors finally closed behind her that she saw who had followed her in; Cullen, Josephine and Leliana had led the way, but the remnants of her companions had come too. Sera and Varric had strolled in together, with Cole lurking closely behind. Cassandra and Blackwall had closed the doors behind them, and Arissa took a deep breath before turning around to face them. They looked at her in silent curiosity. 'I…saw Solas last night,' she admitted. 'In the Fade.'

Cullen turned pale, and looked to Sera for confirmation, who nodded gleefully. 'Did he say _elven glory_ at all, by the way?' she giggled, and Arissa's ears turned bright red. 'No,' she answered sharply, but she could hear Blackwall and Cole sniggering. 'Stop it you two,' she snapped, and, with a final snort, Blackwall shut up. 'I don't know where he is,' she continued, 'but he is alive and, if I understood him correctly…he wants to be found.'

Cassandra raised an eyebrow. 'Found? That would imply….'

I know what it would imply,' Arissa said quickly. 'But he isn't dead.' Her eyes lost focus as she thought back. 'He was always apologetic, about everything. Maybe he feels he needs forgiveness before he can return?'

It was Varric's turn to respond. 'Sounds to me like he's spent too much time alone,' he grunted. 'Ah, Chuckles….what did you do this time?'

Leliana interrupted as talk broke out across the room. 'We need a plan, Inquisitor,' she said smoothly. 'I assume you have one?' Arissa nodded slowly. 'We need to get in contact with Morrigan,' she said, 'And I need to try and find Solas again tonight.' She looked around the room, at the people she had come to call her friends. 'I am not asking any of you to help me on this,' she started to say. 'What happened between Solas and I was between the two of us, so if you don't want to help I completely understand.' Sera snorted. 'We're both friends and family, clodhead,' she answered. 'We're in this together, yeah?' Arissa smiled gratefully, then grew solemn.

'In which case…there's something you need to see.'

Taking a deep breath, Arissa gently cleansed her aura, and as the murky magic cleared, so did the fake vallaslin on her cheekbones. The room stopped dead, all mouths collectively open, all jaws collectively dropped. Arissa smiled weakly. 'Surprise!' Cole came forward and took her hand. The boy smiled. 'I helped you,' he stated quietly, and Arissa pulled him close for a hug. 'Cole helped me cover the removal of my tattoos,' she explained, 'and made you guys get distracted or forget whenever you noticed they were missing.' Leliana was the first to recover her voice. 'What _happened_ when you and Solas went to Crestwood?' she asked. 'I think it's time we all knew.' A chorus of voices echoed her agreement and Arissa's heart sank.

Taking a seat, she drew her hand across her face, arriving at the tip of her ear and rubbing it slightly. 'When we arrived, Solas…confessed that there was something he needed to tell me. It turns out the vallaslin – it's another thing the Dalish got wrong.' There was a tremor in her voice as she relived those words, and Cole flinched. 'I can see that,' he murmured, and clutched Arissa's hand all the more tightly. 'Pain, a wound, anger, why did he leave, what does he hide, those sad eyes too full of soul – argh!' The Anchor suddenly flared, and Cole pulled his hand away. Instinctively, Arissa cast a gentle frost spell on Cole's palm, and the boy smiled gratefully, any pain already forgotten. 'Anyway,' she continued, 'it appears that, according to Solas, the vallaslin are actually slave markings.' She looked down at her feet, unwilling to face her friends now that they knew she had been marked as such. 'He said he knew a spell to remove them. The Dalish have always been about wanting the freedom of the elves; I wanted the slave markings gone. So he took them. He took them…and then he left me.'

The room was quiet as Arissa's eyes filled with tears. Cole took her hand again, and she closed her eyes, letting the tears drop onto the War Table. 'He promised he would explain after we had defeated Corypheus,' she whispered. 'But then he left. Not even a fucking word.'


	5. Memoriam

Quickly, a battle plan was drawn up. Josephine explained the sending of the ravens to Alistair again, and to Aurelie, hoping that perhaps she, jealous of Morrigan's son with Alistair – the one thing that she could probably never give to Alistair – would spill the beans on Morrigans whereabouts. Leliana read the reports given to her that morning by her spies; someone looking vaguely like Morrigan had been spotted in Redcliffe, albeit without Kieran in tow; yet another report suggested a young boy's body had been found in a ditch in Crestwood, half eaten. Cullen's soldiers, guarding the researchers at the ruins of the Temple of Mythal, had found nothing that could have related to Solas. The researchers themselves had had a wonderful time, and it was rumoured that the University in Orlais intended to open a new library wing dedicated entirely to Ancient Elven Studies. Arissa set their tasks – sending the soldiers to scout the body in Crestwood, with Leliana's spies seeking out the Redcliffe woman, and Josephine was happy to return to her desk and write to her allies in the Orlesian Court for more information about Lady Morrigan.

Once the advisors left, Arissa sagged visibly. Sera and Cole both stepped up, alarmed, but she shook her head, holding up a hand. 'Just tired,' she said quietly. 'Haven't been this active in months.' Blackwall cleared his throat. 'What about the rest of us, Your Worship?' he asked. 'I could try and reach some of the contacts I made when I was wandering Ferelden, if you'd like?' Sera giggled, nodding along. 'I'm sure my 'friends' will be happy to help!' she laughed, and Arissa nodded, grateful. The two of them dashed away to send ravens, closely followed by Varric; 'I'm not sure how much help I can be, but I'm sure sending a few letters to Kirkwall won't harm matters.'

Eventually, Cassandra, Cole and Arissa were the only ones left standing in the War Room. Cassandra shifted from foot to foot. 'I don't know what I can do to help,' she admittedly eventually, her voice soft. 'I would say I would contact the Seekers, but I never managed to find any others after what happened at Caer Oswin.' Arissa nodded, her eyes kind. 'You have always been supportive of me in this Inquisition, Cassandra,' she replied. 'I would be honoured if you would accompany me on my search.' Cassandra's smile seemed to make her whole face glow, and she clasped Arissa's hand fervently. 'The honour would be mine, Inquisitor,' she answered, and bowed before she left the room. Finally, it was just Cole.

'You want memories,' the boy said quietly. 'I will stay tonight, if you like? I don't need sleep.' Arissa was exhausted, mentally and physically, and Cole's simple kindness sought to ruin her. Tears filled her eyes, blurring her vision, and it wasn't until Cole took her hand and led her back to her quarters that she realized the whole day had gone past in a blur of action and planning, and that the stars were beginning to shine. The idea of travelling now was ludicrous. Before she knew it, Cole had arranged for her bath to be filled with hot, soapy water, and as she soaked Cole sat guarding her, his back to her as he sung half rhymes and ancient songs. Finally, Arissa was in her bedclothes, curled underneath her quilt. Cole hovered, unsure.

'Cole…are you sure?' Arissa asked, yawning. Cole smiled, a genuine smile. 'Heavy eyes, heavy heart, fear of dreaming but the anticipation is almost too much, searching, seeking, finding, losing…' He trailed off at the look on Arissa's face. 'I can help you here,' he answered. 'I can protect you, even travel the Fade with you if you'd like. You wouldn't be alone.' Arissa reached for his hand, held it tight.

'I don't want to be alone. Thank you, Cole.' She was still holding his hand when her eyes closed, and she was still holding his hand when he walked her into the Fade. Cole stopped in wonder, looking around at the empty preservation of Haven. 'This is where he was most important,' he said, and Arissa nodded, a flash of movement catching her attention. In the distance, she saw herself and Solas walking out from the Chantry. Oh no.

'C'mon Cole, we should start searching.' Arissa tugged his hand but it was too late, he had seen her memory begin to play out. 'That's you! And Solas!' Cole watched, childlike, as Arissa pulled Solas to her, watched him pull away, then change his mind. His eyes widened and Arissa could almost feel his heart speed up. 'He wanted you so much,' he murmured, 'Needed you like he needed to breathe, to feel again, but it goes against his duty, his mission, you will only punish yourself later, we shouldn't, it isn't right, not even here -' Arissa dissolved the scene, and Haven went up in black smoke, leaving Cole blinking, startled.

'I'm sorry, Cole, I had no wish to hear those words again.' Cole nodded and squeezed her hand, before releasing it. 'There is a spirit near,' he murmured, and began to slowly walk around. Arissa followed him, a question beginning to burn on her lips. 'Cole,' she began, 'Just through a memory you could tell what he was thinking…did you know what would happen? Did you know he would leave?' Cole did not answer, walking slightly faster ahead of her. He did not reply for some time, and Arissa knew better than to push him. Finally, he stopped. 'Solas has never been who you thought he was,' he began. 'I didn't really know, not me, not until the Temple of the Elves. Abelas knew him, it was strange, he could see, was allowed to see, but I was cast out, ignored, banished from his mind.'

Cole turned to face Arissa, his gentle face sad. 'He didn't want you to know. He wanted to protect you.' Catching movement over his shoulder, Arissa saw a figure walking out of a thick green mist. Tall for an elf, Solas moved with a loping grace, a staff strapped to his back, a knife at his belt. He had changed since the battle with Corypheus, and now Arissa could see him, rather than her memories of him, those changes had become more apparent. He looked…powerful was the only word that came to mind. No longer dressed in Inquisition armour, Solas wore elven robes collared with fur around the neck. A crimson cloak hung from his shoulders, and the very places he stepped upon crackled with energy.

'Ma vhenan,' he breathed, and slowly reached out a hand towards her. Arissa didn't move, her emotions a whirlwind inside her. Joy at his return, confusion at his appearance, anger at Cole's words, and uncertainty at what to do now raged inside her. Beside her, Cole shook his head from side to side, flinching with pain as he felt the storm inside her. Solas, perhaps sensing the crackling aura around her, retracted his hand, and deliberately relaxed his stance. 'Arissa,' he said in a low voice. 'Whatever Cole did or did not do was of my asking. He is not to blame.' A lightning bolt erupted from the floor next to him, striking at the Faded sky. Solas did not flinch, but instead continued his words. 'I meant to tell you, I swear it. I had all intentions to, that night at the pond –' several cracks of lightning – 'But you don't understand, all these years and you are the first I ever came close to –'

The lightning stopped, replaced with a fine rain. A pond appeared as the mist surrounding the trio dispersed, grass growing with amazing speed from the floor, and fireflies filled the air. Cole and Solas looked around them in wonder, then back to Arissa. She had not moved, but her head hung down, and Solas could make out tears running down her face. This was beyond her control, then. As Cole watched, the memory of that night played out in front of them, from Arissa's point of view. The removal of the vallaslin, Solas's murmuring of reverence, almost like a prayer. 'You are so beautiful,' Cole whispered in time with the Spirit-Solas. Then came the heartbreak, and although not part of the memory, thunder rumbled overhead. Solas watched for the first time the Inquisitor's face as he walked away, left standing there, barefaced and ashamed. He had walked away to hide the shame in his eyes, not once knowing she hadn't cared about the same. As the memory of him disappeared from view, Arissa's memory form crumpled to the ground, pulling her knees up to her chest and sobbing, the water of the pond gently lapping at her toes.

'Vhenan…' he whispered. 'What did I do to you?'


	6. Regret

There was no answer. Cole and Solas both turned to face Arissa – but she was gone. Only a smouldering flower showed where she had stood. Solas took a hitched breath, made to move after her, but a hand on his shoulder stilled him. 'I will go,' Cole said softly. 'I swore to protect her tonight.' Solas watched as Cole disappeared after the Inquisitor, then turned back to that final, fragmented image, the broken elf, the woman he loved. 'I swear if I could go back,' he murmured, 'I would hold you in my arms and never let you go again.' He knelt before the shadowed elf, made a shower of sparks rain gently over it, before standing and moving back into the mist. An eluvian appeared within the mist, and Solas murmured in elvhen before passing through. A little like walking through a waterfall, Solas's vision blurred momentarily before clearing, and, as always, the sight of the Temple of Mythal took his breath away. Brightly coloured birds circled around the ceiling, and the empty Well of Sorrows sat in front of him. Solas moved to his corner, checking the wards. He had only dared return to the Temple when the researchers had finally left, around a month ago, and had yet to fully explore the Temple himself. Seeing the wards undisturbed, Solas returned to his sleeping form and gradually awoke.

His vision was always so much brighter when back in his body. Solas sat up slowly, checking his surroundings and his possessions were safe and clear, when he heard footsteps. Solas leapt to his feet, his hand automatically reaching for his staff. He was ready to strike when the figure appeared, an elf dressed in ancient robes, using an ancient staff to support himself. Solas relaxed as he realized who the elf was. 'Andaran atish'an, Abelas,' Solas greeted him. Abelas raised his staff briefly, but stood down as he realized it was Solas. 'You are back, elf?' he grunted. 'There is no more Well to drink from.' Solas sighed, and lay down his staff. 'I never needed the Well for its knowledge, Abelas,' he replied. 'It was you I needed to speak with. To apologise.' Abelas raised an eyebrow.

'What transpired with the Inquisition…with the Witch and the Inquisitor; I did not realise the Witch's true intentions until it was too late. Allowing her to drink, however, was preferable under the circumstances. She would have killed you otherwise, you understand.' Abelas said nothing, merely nodded. Solas took a deep breath. This was the difficult bit.

'You remember me.' This was not a question. 'When I came all those years ago. My news broke many of your people.' Abelas nodded again. 'Do you fear me?' Solas asked suddenly.

Abelas raised an eyebrow. 'Why would I fear the Wolf? You were a friend to Mythal, so you say. I do not fear those who befriended my goddess.' Solas said nothing, and gestured for the two of them to sit. Abelas watched the Wolf carefully. 'Is everything alright, my lord?' he asked. Solas shook his head. 'I am troubled, Abelas,' he replied. 'I am…distracted from my cause. I both love and loathe it.' Abelas smiled, the first time Solas had seen him do so. 'A woman, then?'

Solas looked at him, his eyes weary. 'Is it so obvious?' he asked quietly. 'She – deserved so much better than I. I thought it kinder to leave her.' Abelas watched, waiting for Solas to continue. 'Her spirit is so – so unique. She walks the Fade in her dreams, just as I, and it is almost impossible to resist her. Yet when I dare to give in, she fled from me.' Solas sighed, wiping his hand across his face. 'I should have told her the truth,' he said quietly.

Abelas clapped his back with a hand. 'Regret will only bring you sorrow,' he said. 'Better to look forward to the future – use your past mistakes to right your future wrongs.' Solas chuckled bleakly. 'She said that once, too. Look what happened.'


	7. Din'an

Later, when Abelas had left Solas for the night, he spoke to the eluvian. Gently, in low tones, Solas commanded the mirror to show him Arissa. It gleamed bright blue before revealing Skyhold. Solas sat, cross-legged, rapt with attention as Arissa's face appeared, rippling as if the glass was made of water. She was back in her room, Cole waking her from sleep. Tears had run down her face and Cole jumped out of the way as she lashed out, lightning flashing from her palm. 'Burning, burning!' he shouted, and Arissa shot up in bed, horror dawning on her face as she realized she'd set the tapestry on fire. Quickly, she cast another spell and snow replaced the flames, leaving the tapestry badly singed but intact.

Cole watched, confused, as Arissa got out of bed to check the tapestry for damage. 'It'll be fine,' she announced. Cole smiled. 'How are you feeling?' he asked her. 'You tell me,' Arissa answered with a weak smile. Cole stilled, his eyes unfocusing. 'Pain, pain like you wouldn't believe, sorrow, how could he, the smell of rain, that last kiss, bare skin for the first time in years –' he broke off as someone knocked on the door. 'Breakfast!' a voice called, and Arissa rolled her eyes. 'No thanks!' she called back, and Cole frowned, concerned.

'You should eat,' he insisted. 'YOU still need food to survive. Last night took much of you.'

Arissa scowled at him, irritated by his truthfulness, and climbed back up to her balcony. 'Leave me, Cole,' she commanded. The boy looked confused. 'You don't want to be alone,' he said softly, and Arissa screamed. An actual scream, and it made both Cole and Solas jump. 'I said _leave_ ,' Arissa hissed, and Cole got the message. His head hanging low, Cole left the Inquisitor alone. As she heard the door swing shut, Arissa closed her eyes, clenching her fists, and tears began to form. Solas watched as Arissa's anger took control, and her destructive magic began to show. Storm clouds gathered across the ceiling and lightning struck. It began to rain and although Solas was saddened to see Arissa in this state, he couldn't help but be impressed by her magic – clearly she had grown stronger during his absence. As the storm grew more powerful, Arissa went limp, breathing deeply and relaxing her hands. She began to whisper under her breath.

'Ir abelas, ma vhenan,' she whispered, 'but I can't do this anymore. It's just too much. Mythal, ma ghilana mir din'an.' Solas shuddered as he realised what she was about to do. 'NO!' he shouted, getting to his feet. Helplessly, he watched as Arissa climbed down and slowly walked to the balcony overlooking the mountains, out of sight of the mirror. Furiously, Solas started to shout at the mirror, trying to make himself heard. 'Arissa!' he cried. 'I am still here, vhenan! I am still HERE!' With his final word, Solas beat upon the glass of the eluvian – and fell.

When he next looked up, Solas found that he had returned to Skyhold.

 _Aha! Cliff hanger! Sorry about the short length of this chapter folks, but I wanted to put out one more before I disappear for a little while. Should have more chapters up by Friday so won't keep you in suspense for too long!_

 _Dareth shiral._


	8. Rescue

Solas stumbled to his feet, disoriented. What happened? Where was he? He heard a muffled sob from behind him and spun around to see Arissa climbing up onto her balcony ledge. 'Vhenan!'

Solas sprinted to her side, just as Arissa closed her eyes and stepped off the ledge, a final sob emerging from her throat. Almost seamlessly, Solas leapt onto the ledge himself and caught her arm, beseeching the spirits of the Fade to help him pull her back over the side. Perhaps they heard him, for she seemed lighter and frailer, and it wasn't difficult to pull her close, and gather her in his arms. Arissa was totally silent, and Solas assumed she was in shock. Gently, he carried her to her bed, and laid her down, before sitting on the bed himself and pulling her back into his arms, holding her close. He finally permitted himself to look at her face – he had earned at least that much. Arissa stared up at him, complete shock on her face. 'Vhenan,' she whispered, 'Did I fall into the Fade?' Solas chuckled quietly, before smoothing her hair away from her face. 'No, emma lath,' he answered. 'I promised I would keep you safe all that time ago in Haven. Ar lath ma, vhenan.'

At that, Arissa broke down in tears. Solas held her close, crushing her gently to his chest, and buried his face in her hair, hiding his own tears from her. He could not afford to stay, not yet, but it was not difficult to realize the unmistakeable feeling of peace settling within his ancient soul, and he yearned to stay with her forever. As he gathered his thoughts, Solas reached out for Cole's presence, and within moments of his thoughts Cole appeared. 'I saw what happened,' the boy said, his eyes wide with fright. 'She wanted to fall forever, but then you fell instead and saved her.' Solas watched Arissa's face, carefully. 'She sleeps,' Solas whispered, then looked at Cole, all his years of sadness apparent on his face. 'Cole, you know what I am to ask of you.' Cole shook his head vehemently. 'It is not fair to deny love to either one. She must know.'

Solas looked straight at Cole, letting his power show subtly. 'Cole, I must do this. You _know_ I must do this.' Gently, he extracted himself from his embrace with Arissa, his fingertips tingling at the touch of her skin. 'Tell her you saved her, not me,' Solas instructed. 'She must forget. I need more time…I need to redeem myself before I can confess all I have done…' He trailed off, aware of his pitiful excuses. Cole watched the elf carefully. 'You swear to tell her all one day?' he asked sharply. Solas nodded, overwhelmed by the enormity of what he had to do.

Cole sighed, perhaps one of the most human things Solas had seen him do. Then he placed his hand upon Arissa's forehead, and hummed. Arissa stirred. 'She will wake,' Cole warned. Solas took a step back, suddenly afraid to leave her. It was the best thing he could do right now, but the thought of leaving her side made his heart ache in strange and unfamiliar ways. He shook his head, clearing it of such thoughts. Cole looked to the door urgently. 'You must go now, or she will remember when she wakes!' he uttered, and Solas fled. Casting a spell of concealment, Solas slipped down the steps from the Inquisitor's quarters, and made his way to the disused eluvian hidden just off from the garden. Slowly and quietly, he eased open the door and was surprised to find the room well cared for. A low couch sat in front of the eluvian, and candles lit the room with surprising warmth. The mirror itself was darkened, old, almost rusted from disuse. Solas touched the glass lightly, curious as to why this mirror did not activate at his touch. He was so absorbed he didn't notice the door open behind him, and when a voice spoke, Solas felt as if he jumped about three feet in the air.

'She would sit in here for hours and wait for you to appear through it,' said the voice. 'She always thought that's how you would return to her, through a magic mirror.'


	9. Helpless

Solas turned around to face the spymaster. 'Leliana,' he said smoothly. 'How nice to see you again.' The woman stepped closer, and Solas tensed. 'The same could be said of you, Solas,' Leliana replied, a smug smile on her face. 'So,' she asked, 'How did you manage to sneak back in? My spies are at all the gates and doors – unless there's a way you didn't think to mention to me.' Her eyes darkened and Solas stepped back, holding his hands up.

'I did not mean to return,' he insisted, choosing the truth for once. 'I was needed, and I helped, so now I must leave.' He motioned to the mirror and Leliana raised an eyebrow. 'You understand the workings of the eluvian, then?' Solas nodded. 'I have learnt much since the defeat of the Corypheus,' he lied, 'But I must return to where I was. I am needed still.'

Leliana leant against the wall, and sighed. 'You have no idea what coming here will mean to Lady Lavellan,' she said, and Solas fought to keep his emotions in check. 'Oh? What will it mean?' Betterto act like he didn't care, cut the ties further, be banished from this place. That might stop him coming back. The spymaster glared at him. 'She is obsessed with finding you,' she spat. 'She's barely slept, barely ate, barely _smiled_ since you left, Elf. Just yesterday she decided on a new course of action. Said she'd seen you, met with you in the Fade, and that you were alive. Clearly, she was right.' Solas gawped, astonished at the sudden ferocity in Leliana.

'What does she plan to do?' he wondered aloud. 'She wants to find Morrigan, primarily,' Leliana answered. 'She thinks that as one of the most powerful mages in all Thedas, the witch might know how to find you.' The woman snorted. 'Although I suppose now that isn't necessary.' She straightened up again, this time producing a pair of handcuffs from her belt. 'You lied to us about who you are, what you really are, Solas. It's time we knew the truth.' Solas backed up, reaching for his staff – before he realised he had left it behind in the Temple. Leliana smirked, seeing the panic on Solas's face. Solas readied himself, reaching out with his palms. It had been some time since he had not used a staff for magic, but he was fairly certain he could take on Leliana. 'Please, Leliana,' he asked, 'Let me go now, and do not tell her I was here, please!' Leliana shook her head. 'You threaten the Inquisition, mage,' Leliana answered. 'I'm sorry.'

As she advanced, however, Solas felt a rumble of power within him. He gasped, horrified, and looked pleadingly at Leliana. 'Run, spymaster,' he begged, and she stopped, confused. 'I will not be able to control myself much longer!' Leliana frowned. 'Is that a threat, mage?' Solas shook his head, despair at what he was capable of doing surging through his body. Slowly, almost as if he was struggling against himself, Leliana watched his focus his palms at her. Realising what was about to happen, Leliana made a dash for the door, but was too late. As she looked behind her, almost in slow motion, she saw Solas shape an incantation. His eyes seemed to flash, and then a bolt of purple light erupted from his hands, engulfing her. Pain as she had never known it lanced through her. Leliana screamed in agony, and collapsed to the floor.

Her clothes were cut to ribbons, slashed with an invisible claw, and blood oozed from the claw marks that stretched all over her body. It was as if she had been mangled by an animal, and a deadly one at that. Solas regained control of his hands almost immediately, but he was numb. Leliana lay still on the floor, a puddle of blood slowly growing from beneath her. There was a thud at the door. 'Lady Nightingale!' 'Leliana!' 'What's going on in there?!' Solas stood still. Leliana looked at him, eyes unfocused. 'What….' Solas shook his head. 'Ir abelas, truly, spymaster.' He backed up towards the mirror, desperately searching for a button, a lever, _anything!_ Thank the heavens that Leliana had thought to lock the door. The soldiers were close to breaking it down, and now Solas could hear Cullen giving orders. Panic threatened to overwhelm him, and in desperation he struck at the mirror. 'Emma isala halani!' he shouted. 'Fen'Harel nuvenin ne!' At his last cry, the mirror shimmered, and Solas wasted no time, diving through the mirror and back into the relative safety of the Temple as Cullen's soldiers broke the door.

Entering, Cullen caught a glimpse of Solas sprinting through the shimmering eluvian. He turned back to see Cullen staring at him in shock, and Cullen saw the desperation and the fear in his eyes. Then he was gone, and Cullen realised that Leliana was close to death. 'Leliana – no!' he shouted. 'Fetch the healers, _quickly!'_ Cullen lifted Leliana into her arms and made for the infirmary as quickly as he could. 'Someone needs to tell Arissa…' Leliana whispered. Cullen nodded, shushing her. 'Let's keep you alive first,' he assured her. 'Then we'll talk to the Inquisitor.'

Back in the Temple, Solas crumpled to his knees. He stared at his hands. What had happened? Deep down, he knew the answer. Solas remembered his meeting with Mythal, in the aftermath of Corypheus's defeat. The feeling of power swimming through his veins – the power he had once had as Fen'Harel. He was strong again – too strong to control his power without his foci orb. What had he unleashed?


	10. Dirth

News of the attack on Leliana spread like wildfire throughout Skyhold, and Cassandra was one of the first to reach her side in the infirmary. 'Leliana!' she gasped, shocked at her state. 'What happened to you?' The spymaster couldn't speak, and neither the chief surgeon nor Cullen would allow her to. 'It was Solas, believe it or not,' Cullen answered instead. 'He attacked her and then fled through Morrigan's eluvian.' Cassandra stared at him in shock, then drew up a chair by Leliana's bedside. 'Did she say anything?' Cullen gestured to the spymaster's wounds. 'Does she look like she's in any state to speak? She's fighting for her life, Cassandra. We should be thinking of ways to apprehend the apostate.' Cullen's brow creased with memory. 'The look in his eyes as he fled…I don't think he was in control,' he said seriously. 'If Solas is losing control then he needs to be contained,' Cassandra answered, shocked. She had known Solas the longest, had met him first in the immediate aftermath of the Breach, and not once had she ever seen the elf out of control. For him to have done this…Cassandra looked at Leliana's unconscious form, shocked by the savagery of the spell Solas must have used. She squeezed the spymaster's hand, before standing up and pinching the bridge of her nose, breathing deeply.

'Has anyone informed the Inquisitor of what has happened?' she asked. Cullen shook his head. 'Leliana was the priority.' He sighed. 'Stay with her, Cassandra. Let me know if the situation changes. I'll go and speak to Arissa.'

Cole hadn't left Arissa's side. She had awoken slowly, confused and upset. 'What…what did I do?' she had asked him, and Cole had found it almost impossible to lie to her. 'You tried to fall,' he had answered, 'but I saved you.' Arissa reached for his hand, and Cole hugged her, his slim form providing familiar comfort. Arissa thanked Sylaise for his presence – without the spirit, she knew exactly what would have happened. And she realised now how terribly she had acted. They stayed together for some time, unaware of the attack on Leliana, until Cullen knocked on the door.

'My lady,' he said, entering, 'I have some bad news – oh. Hello, Cole.' His voice was not unfriendly, merely cautious – as a former Templar, Cullen still struggled with the spirit's presence. Arissa released the boy. 'It's okay, Cole.' Her voice was warm. 'I'll be alright.' Cole nodded, his eyes on Cullen. Then he vanished. Cullen shivered. 'I don't think I'll ever quite get used to that,' he said softly, and Arissa smiled. 'Neither,' she answered, and Cullen smiled, before he grew serious. He gestured to the balcony. 'Want some air?' he asked. Arissa shivered. 'I'd rather not, if you wouldn't mind,' she answered, instead moving to the couch by the fireplace. They took their seats, Arissa drawing her knees up to her chest, Cullen sitting stiff, and awkward. Arissa was the first to break the silence.

'What's wrong, Cullen?' The commander sighed, running a hair through his hair. 'There has been an incident, Inquisitor. Involving Leliana. She was attacked in the eluvian's chamber.' Arissa straightened up, shocked. 'What?! What happened? Is she alright?' Cullen shook his head sadly. 'Leliana is resting in the infirmary, but we don't yet know if she will survive her wounds. The spell used…it was as if she had been attacked by a wild animal, Inquisitor.' Arissa narrowed her eyes. 'A spell? Magic did this?' Cullen nodded. Then came the difficult bit.

'We know who it was, Arissa,' he said as gently as he could. 'I'm afraid to say…it was Solas.' There was silence. Cullen watched the Inquitisitor's face carefully, aware of the growing chill inside the room. Arissa's face was stony, closed. _Well, shit,_ thought Cullen. 'Solas?' she asked quietly. Cullen nodded again. 'You must be mistaken,' she stated. 'He can't have been here, he's not been seen in six months!' She frowned, confused. 'I thought….' Cullen watched her. 'You thought what?'

'Earlier, I…it doesn't matter,' she answered quickly, her brow furrowed. 'Solas could not have attacked Leliana. That's the point.'

'I'm afraid it was him, Arissa,' Cullen said seriously. 'I saw him, right before he disappeared into the eluvian.' Arissa stood up, shaking her head. 'No, you must be wrong. Solas couldn't have done that. It's Solas! I would know if he was capable of this!'

'Would you?' Arissa stared at Cullen, outrage on her features. 'What?' she hissed. Cullen stood up, his eyes fierce. 'We don't even know who Solas truly is, Inquisitor! He ups and vanishes the _day_ Corypheus is defeated, he lied to us from the beginning! And now Leliana's life hangs in the balance, and from what I saw in his eyes, he was unable to control his actions.' Cullen pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. 'I am truly sorry, Arissa. I can't begin to imagine what this must mean to you. But if he is losing control, then the apostate needs to be apprehended.'

A drinking glass exploded, tiny chips of crystal raining all over the Inquisitor's desk. Cullen stepped back, shocked. Another, sat by the bed, followed suit. 'Arissa, calm yourself!' he said sharply. The Inquisitor had turned around, arms folded. Her head was bowed and Cullen took the opportunity to step closer. Gently, he placed a hand on her shoulder and turned her around to face him. Eyes shining, Arissa looked up at him miserably. 'I don't know what to believe anymore,' she said simply, and Cullen nodded. 'I know. No one does.'


	11. Cullen

Cullen and Arissa entered the great hall a short time laster. The citizens of Skyhold had gathered, waiting to hear news of Leliana. This time, however, it was Cullen who took centre-stage, the Inquisitor standing shamefaced behind him. 'As you are all aware,' he began, 'Leliana was attacked this morning by a rogue apostate. I am here to tell you that we know the identity of the attacker.' He paused, waiting for the words to sink in. 'It was Solas.'

The hall practically exploded in whispers, gasps, looks of suspicion upon Arissa, who, if possible, shrank back even further. 'As of today, Solas the apostate is an enemy of the Inquisition, and must be apprehended as such,' Cullen continued loudly. 'Report to myself or to Seeker Cassandra to become part of a volunteer force to find him. That will be all.' Cullen bowed to Arissa before making his way down the hall and back into the courtyard. Arissa began to follow, needing to see Leliana's wounds for herself. As she walked, whispers filled her ears. 'Can we trust her?' 'Would the Inquisitor lose control as well?' 'Elves…they're all the same.' Arissa felt her ears grow red at the tips and walked faster, bowing her head against the worst of the whispers. Could what they thought be true? She thought back to the recent events in her chambers. The lightning storms in the Fade, the foolish suicide attempt, the exploding glasses just moments ago, the Anchor flaring more recently than usual – was she about to lose control as well?

'Inquisitor,' said a voice at her side. Arissa turned her head to see Varric and Sera falling into step beside her. Varric looked sympathetic, whilst Sera's face was full of pity. 'Come on, Arissa,' Varric said gently. 'Let's go get you a drink.' Arissa shook her head. 'I must see to Leliana.' Sera sighed, nodding to Varric, and they both gripped her elbows. 'You need to slow down and talk it all out with friends, actually,' Sera quipped. 'Cullen will let us know if anything happens.' Arissa sighed, knowing that she wasn't getting out of this. 'Okay, fine,' she answered. 'Lead the way.'

As Cullen made his way to the infirmary, he had the strange sensation that someone was following him. He stopped, abruptly, and felt someone crash into him. 'Oof!' he heard, and spun round to see Cole, looking embarrassed. 'Cole?' Cullen asked, confused. 'What on earth are you doing?' He backed up slightly, unnerved by the boys' appearance.

'I needed to make you see,' he answered. 'The Inquisitor is sick.' Cullen frowned. 'She'll live, Cole. He spymaster is more important right now.' Cullen made to continue to the infirmary but suddenly Cole was in front of him. 'She tried to fall, Commander.' Cole fixed his grey eyes upon Cullen's intensely. 'She wanted to fall forever, but I saved her.' After all, he had made a promise to keep Solas's secret safe. 'Solas wanted me to look after her.' Cullen stepped back in shock. Arissa had _wanted_ to fall? She had tried to jump? 'What happened?' Cullen said urgently. 'When was this? Damn the Maker, how did we not see? How did we not realise how she felt?' Cole reached to put a hand on his shoulder gently, but Cullen flinched away, and Cole quickly retreated. 'I will stay with her and watch over her,' he said, coolly. 'But she needs more than just my help, Commander.' As Cullen watched, the boy walked away, somehow disappearing. Although no longer a spirit, he was still scarily good at fading into the background. Cullen shivered, then hurried to the infirmary. He had to warn the others.

When he arrived, he was pleased to see that Leliana, although still weak, was alive and talking, whispering softly to Cassandra. True to her word, the Seeker had not left her side, and could barely keep a grin from her face. Seeing Cullen enter, stony-faced, the two women stopped whispering and watched him carefully. 'A word, Seeker,' Cullen uttered, and Cassandra looked to Leliana for permission. 'I'll be fine, Cassandra,' she said quietly, and the Seeker removed her hand and walked outside with Cullen. 'The surgeon said that she'll be badly scarred, perhaps forever,' she informed the soldier, 'But she'll live. The critical thing is to let her rest and heal for now. No problems, no stress.' She studied Cullen's face, sighing. 'But something tells me that you aren't following the same path.'

'Cole spoke to me,' he confessed. 'Cole? What did he want?' Cassandra frowned. 'The Inquisitor…we need to watch her as well,' Cullen answered. 'Cole says he saved her earlier.'

'From what?' Cassandra asked, a look of concern replacing the frown. 'She…she tried to jump, Cassandra. At least, that's what Cole said.' Cullen watched as understanding blossomed, only to be consumed by fear. 'Where is she now? Does anyone else know?' Cassandra asked, and Cullen shook his head.

'She was in the great hall. I think Varric and Sera took her to the tavern.' Cassandra looked back to the infirmary, torn. 'You should speak with her, Cullen,' Cassandra said finally. 'I will stay with Leliana. It is my duty.' She nodded firmly, convinced. 'Yes. That will work. Let me know what she says.'


	12. Tavern

Varric and Sera had steered Arissa to the Herald's Rest, taking up a table on the upper level of the tavern. Whilst Arissa had sat, staring down at her hands, Varric had fetched three tankards of beer, and Sera had returned to her room for the bottle of whisky 'borrowed' from the kitchens. The three of them sat quietly, listening to the gentle music coming from below. Suddenly, Arissa reached for her tankard, taking several large gulps. The beer slipped down her throat, the unfamiliar taste making her cough. They had never had drink like this in the clan. Varric laughed, whilst Sera clapped her on the back. 'That's how you do it, Lavellan!' he chortled, raising his own tankard in response. Sera poured herself a small measure of whisky and downed it in one, wincing as the fire spread. Arissa laughed in spite of herself and the elf grinned, happy to see the Inquisitor more like herself.

As they drank, Varric turned curious eyes to Arissa. 'So, what's the deal now? Are we all going to go on this mammoth quest to find Chuckles?' Arissa shrugged. 'I don't know. The advisors clearly want him captured after what's happened.' Sera nodded, frowning. 'But what do you want? Ooh, ooh, we could sneak away in the night and go on an epic quest to find him before the Inquisition does! Or, you use, like, 'elf powers' to find him! Or, wait, I know, you do another epic search through the Fade!' Sera's enthusiasm was contagious, and Arissa and Varric both smiled. 'I'm not sure I could just up and vanish, Sera,' Arissa answered gently. 'Although I'm sure it would be fun.' Sera giggled. 'Little people for the little people,' she answered, and, standing from the table, headed back downstairs to get a refill on her tankard of beer. As soon as she walked out of sight, however, her smile vanished, and Varric watched her carefully. 'What's going on in that head of yours, Herald?' he asked gently. Arissa shook her head. 'I'm really, really confused, Varric,' she replied. 'It seems that Solas is not who I thought him to be.' Varric sighed. 'Nobody ever is, Inquisitor. Deep down, we all have two sides – the one we want people to see, and the one we hide even from ourselves.' Arissa smiled sadly. 'That's one of the more poetic things I've heard you say, Varric,' she said, and Varric snorted. 'I might just be a crossbow-wielding dwarf, Inquisitor, but I'm a damn fine writer.' Arissa laughed in spite of herself, and Varric chuckled too. They had just finished their tankards when Sera reappeared, with an uncomfortable Cullen in tow.

'He was looking for you downstairs,' Sera explained. Her eyes narrowed at Cullen. 'Play nice.' Cullen cleared his throat apologetically and looked at Arissa, bowing slightly. 'Inquisitor, I would speak with you.' Arissa looked to her companions for permission. The dwarf and the elf nodded, and the Inquisitor stood, leading Cullen out of the top of Herald's Rest and onto the battlements for privacy. The two stood, looking out across the mountain range from Skyhold. Arissa sighed, feeling the familiar sense of peace steal across her as she scanned the skies. 'It's so beautiful,' Cullen murmured, he, too, stunned by the view. 'I am not used to having the time for this.'

Arissa turned away, leaning against the battlements, and studied Cullen's face. 'What's wrong, Cullen?' she asked. He sighed. 'Cole spoke to me.' Arissa froze, her face smooth, her eyes flicking across Cullen's. 'What did he say?'

'I know what happened, Arissa. Why did you do it?' Cullen moved closer. 'What were you thinking?' Arissa shook her head, adamant that she would not cry any more. 'I was confused and upset,' she began slowly. 'I found the Fade again, last night…Cole came with me. We found Solas.' Slowly, breathing deeply, Arissa recounted the events of the dream, and Cullen looked more and more confused and concerned. As she finished, Arissa began to turn her back on Cullen, suddenly desperate to look back into the mountain range. A hand on her shoulder stopped her, however, and Cullen pulled her close, hugging her to him. They stood like that for a moment, warm and comforted, until Arissa pulled away.

'I'm sure Solas didn't mean to hurt Leliana,' Arissa insisted. 'We shouldn't hunt him down, we'll never find him like that. We need to welcome him back.' Cullen was already shaking his head, the Templar instincts emerging. 'If he's losing control then he must be contained – all mages have to be controlled, you know this!' Arissa snorted angrily. 'Actually, I don't, Cullen. I'm Dalish, remember? We treated our mages with respect.' Cullen stared at her, mouth open. How had this turned so sour?

' _Magic is dangerous, magic should be contained!'_ mimicked Arissa. 'The Chantry was so against magic, so opposed to part of the very nature of this world. Solas doesn't need _controlling_ – he needs help, guidance. To control is to imprison. He must be free.'

Cullen threw up his hands. 'I don't understand anything anymore, clearly.' He glared at Arissa. 'Leliana almost _died_ , for Maker's sake! At the very least that's attempted murder, and anyone, regardless of powers or skills, would be hunted for that!' Cullen began to pace feverishly, the familiar ache for lyrium pulling at him more than normal. 'Magic may well be part of this world, but I have only seen the effects of magic gone wrong. I know you mean well, Arissa, I know that this is a horrible thing to have to learn about someone you once cared for-'

'I still care for him, Cullen,' Arissa interrupted. Her face was like ice and Cullen realized that her hands were crackling with energy. 'I care a great deal. If you had any idea what this is like, then you would understand my position.' Cullen stared at her, before shaking his head. 'I'm sorry to have disturbed you, Inquisitor,' he said stiffly, and gave a curt half-bow before turning and walking back to the infirmary. Arissa stared after him as he walked away, before yelling in frustration. Thunder rumbled overhead, and, desperate to vent out some anger, Arissa released a couple of lightning bolts into the valley for good measure.

'So…when are we leaving then?' she heard a voice say behind her. Arissa turned to see that Sera and Varric had followed her up. 'Tonight,' she answered firmly. 'The Inquisition will not help us the way we need. If you want in, meet me by the stables at midnight. Pack for a long trip – we're not returning until Solas is back with us.' Varric smiled, and Sera cheered. Arissa turned back to the mountains for one last look – she had a busy evening planned ahead of her.


	13. Running

The day passed and Arissa discreetly paid visits to the stables, the kitchens, and even to the armoury. Although still the Inquisitor, fear at Solas's actions had put her at suspicion and it was only by speaking to the elven servants that Arissa managed to complete her plans in secrecy – aside from Harritt in the armoury. The man was one of the most loyal members of the Inquisition and had done what she asked without hesitation. Extra potions and runes, fresh arrows and armour – nothing had been too much, it seemed. The kitchen elves had also been very helpful, packing lots of dried, long-lasting food into saddlebags, making sure that Arissa's waterskins were still in good condition, and even making sure some fresh food for their midnight trek was packed as well. Arissa's thanks were genuine, and the servants in the kitchen felt warm with praise.

Now, as night fell, Arissa sat at her desk in the Inquisitor's quarters, penning a final few letters. One to her advisors, apologising for her absence – perhaps an issue with Clan Lavellan had 'arisen'. One to Clan Lavellan themselves that she would send once away from Skyhold, asking for their advice and guidance. And a final letter, to Cole, asking him to watch over those she left behind. Although not many had yet learnt to trust the spirit, Arissa had complete faith in him and trusted that he would prove valuable to the advisors. It broke her heart not to have one of her closest friends accompany her on her quest, but Arissa knew that Cole was best suited to help people at Skyhold; not running around Thedas.

She signed the letters, sealing them with a blob of red wax on each, before reaching for her satchel and slipping it over her shoulder, letting it rest comfortably at her hip. Reaching for her dark travelling cloak, Arissa tied it around her neck, clasping it with an elven brooch, a remnant of her clan. Finally, Arissa took her staff in hand, and threaded it through leather loops she'd had attached to the back of her armour. Although she'd never figured out how to make it look good, it was practically and made perfect sense when riding.

She had all her things. The letters had been written. The room was clean and tidy. All that was needed to do now…was go. Taking one last look at the breath-taking mountain view, Arissa slipped down the stairs and silently closed the door behind her. The great hall was deserted, and she didn't meet a soul until she reached the stables. Varric and Sera had readied the horses, and were waiting for her, rucksacks on each of their backs. The two smiled in relief as Arissa arrived. 'Thought you'd gotten lost,' Varric whispered hoarsely, smiling. 'C'mon. The guard is changing soon, we'll be able to slip past without too much trouble.' He handed the reins of Arissa's horse to her, and mounted his own, a stout little pony with saddlebags and a fierce nature. Sera was already on her horse, with a chocolate-coloured coat and twinkling eyes. Arissa's horse was dappled grey and white, sent as a gift to the elvish Inquisitor by the Lavellan clan, a sweet-natured beast with a strong, intelligent heart. The three trotted quietly to the gates, when a torch suddenly flared. Arissa's horse whinnied, stepping back, and Sera drew her bow, aiming an arrow at the dark figure.

'Where are you going?' Arissa gestured for Sera to lower her bow, startled at the appearance of her friend. 'Cassandra…' she began. The Seeker tsked impatiently, before picking up a dark travelling bag she had left at her feet. Arissa grinned and Cassandra smiled too. Varric groaned and Sera didn't look too happy about it either. 'Really? She's coming along now?' Varric said, and Arissa nodded. 'Cassandra, you'll need a horse.' She nodded. 'Give me ten minutes, and we shall be gone from this place.'

She was less than that, and by the time the sun had begun to rise, the Inquisitor and her party had vanished into the Frostback Mountains, unseen by the searching eyes of Skyhold.

Cole had gone to wake her, as normal, to find her chambers tidy but empty. Spying the letters on her desk, Cole had read the one marked for him, read Arissa's instructions, and fled to the ambassador. He had arrived within seconds, a blur of action that even Josephine hadn't seen coming, his hair and eyes wild, his pale skin unusually flushed. Josephine saw immediately what was wrong. 'She left a letter, she left!' Cole held the letters out abruptly, and Josephine gently prised them from his grip. She opened the one for the advisors and read its contents. 'It says her clan was in need of assistance,' she murmured. Cole shook his head in confusion. 'She writes words, knows they may well be true one day, but her heart says pride, pride, pride.' The diplomat looked up in confusion, but Cole had disappeared, presumably to find out who else had left with the Inquisitor.

 _Pride, pride, pride…._ Josephine mused over these words on her way to the war room. What reason would Cole have had to say that? It had to be a clue in some way. She was met by a frenzied Cole, and a somber Cullen. 'Cole has confirmed that Varric, Sera…and Cassandra have joined Arissa,' Cullen informed her. Josephine raised an eyebrow. 'Cassandra? Well, that certainly confuses things.' She handed the soldier the letter from Arissa, watching Cullen's face as he scanned it. 'Trouble in the Lavellan Clan? But they have always written directly to the Inquisition.'

'My thoughts exactly,' Josephine confirmed. 'Whatever Arissa is up to, it is not with her clan.' She looked to Cole. The boy looked traumatized and a wave of pity swept through her. 'Cole,' she started gently, 'What do you think about all this?' He shook his head frantically, rocking slightly on his heels. 'She wants me to stay here, where I can help! But she _needs_ me too! Pride, pride, pride…' He trailed off and Josephine looked at the commander. 'He said that earlier, as well.' Cullen was staring out of the window. 'Commander?' Josephine asked curiously. 'Is everything alright?'

'Just thinking,' he answered distantly. He seemed to zone back in and stood up a little straighter. 'So, what do we think here? She's lying about her whereabouts? We need to talk to the people of Skyhold, see if anyone had any idea where she might be or what she was going to do. Send me the names of Leliana's agents and I'll organize some troops to help look for her.'

Josephine nodded and Cullen looked relieved to have something to do. Cole watched him. 'Heated words, passion is the fine line, magic needs to be controlled –' He blanched. 'Did you really say that?' Cole looked accusingly at Cullen. Cullen looked ashamed. 'The situation got beyond my control,' he said stiffly. 'What did you do?' Josephine asked. 'I wanted to talk to her about what happened to Leliana. Things were said and we did not part on the best of terms.' Josephine watched him carefully. 'I'm sorry, Commander. That could not have been easy.' He shook his head. 'If you will excuse me, Josephine. I feel a headache arriving.' Josephine nodded and Cullen took his leave. As soon as he had left Cole turned to her urgently. 'She wants to find pride.' A final sentence and he, too, left.

Pride again. What on earth did Cole mean? Josephine couldn't puzzle it out. As injured as Leliana was, her help was needed. She resolved to visit her immediately.


	14. Ma Vhen

Sitting by Leliana's bedside, Josephine sighed, troubled. The spymaster, although alive, was still in poor shape and the surgeon had privately mentioned to Josephine the long term effects of her injuries. 'She may struggle to walk, Lady Josephine, and will bear the scars for perhaps the rest of her life. Anything more, I could not say.' Josephine thanked the surgeon before taking a seat. Leliana was sleeping, induced courtesy of a strong sleeping draught. It would not be too long before she awoke, and Josephine took the opportunity to read through Arissa's letters again, and contemplate Cole's words.

 _My dear advisors,_

 _I wish you the best of luck in tracking down Solas. Upon reflection, I believe your path to be well-intentioned, but wrong, and as such I must regretfully refuse to participate. I have had word from the Keeper of the Lavellan Clan, in the Free Marches, who request my aid. As the former First to my Keeper, you must understand the necessity of my abrupt departure. I will send word of my situation once I have reached my clan, and have surveyed the nature of the emergency._

 _Dareth shiral,_  
 _Inquisitor Arissa Lavellan_

The letter was polite, to the point, and sweetly written, Josephine mused, but it lacked the fire that smouldered in Arissa's soul. Clan Lavellan's First might be a brilliant fighter and leader, but she had never been able to wield her words the way she wielded magic. Josephine read through the letter once again, before turning to the letter addressed to Cole. It was ripped in places, where Cole had evidently lost control. Gently, she opened it and read.

 _Cole,_

 _You are my closest friend and I owe you so much. I cannot stay here and condone this…this witch hunt for Solas. Ma vhenan will not be broken. I am so sorry you cannot come with me, but you must help people as only you can, and the people here will need you more than I will./em/p_

 _Be brave, my friend._  
 _Arissa_

This sounded more like the elf. Josephine smiled, delighted with the puzzle. Whatever Arissa was up to then, was a personal mission. Perhaps, still, a quest for her clan – but writing about Solas…what was she up to?

'Good read?' Josephine looked up, startled, as Leliana turned her head slowly. 'Be honest with me, Josie,' she murmured. 'Do the scars match my outfit?' Josephine smiled and reached for Leliana's hand, grasping it. 'But of course!' she answered, and it was the spymaster's turn to smile. 'What's the news?' she asked, trying slowly to sit up. 'Be careful, Leliana,' Josephine pleaded, but at a look from the spymaster fell silent, and helped prop her up against the wall. Quickly, she filled Leliana in on the events she had missed, from Cullen's argument with the Inquisitor, to Cole's discovery of the letters. Josephine's hopes of learning what Cole had meant with his quizzical words were dashed, however, as Leliana shook her head. 'I am sorry, old friend,' she said, 'I only wish I knew.' Her eyes fluttered and Josephine left her to rest, her thoughts even more convoluted than before.

Cole had followed Cullen to his office, and, for once, waited to knock before entering. Cullen had slumped at his desk, head in his hands. 'Maker's breath,' he murmured, 'Was this my doing? Did I send her away?' Cole crossed the room, and knelt beside him. 'It was already in her mind,' he answered softly. 'You would not have changed it easily.'

Cullen looked at him, really looked at him, perhaps the first proper time he had acknowledged the boy. 'You were close to her, Cole. Tell me…did I hurt her?' Cole took a breath, eyes fixated on Cullen. 'She's on the battlements, and you are close, you are a salve on her heart. Perhaps this is what will be…but then magic scares you so, magic corrupts, the nightmares are getting worse once more, and the terror breaks through and scars your words, sends them scalding into her thoughts.'

He stood and looked out of the window. 'She fights because she, too, feels the fear. Knows the truth of your words but cannot stand to see it come to pass. Fears, desire, confusion, anger, pride. So many questions and no answers for them. Would he think of her still? She does not know. She does not know!' Cole shouted in anger. Cullen watched him.

'Know what?' he asked, and Cole shook his head. 'I cannot tell. I promised the secret would be safe.'

The horses were unsaddled, and a fire had been kindled. Arissa and her friends had ridden for almost an entire day and night to the south of the Frostback Mountains, and now, as night fell for the second time, the four had made camp on the outer reaches of the Arbor Wilds. They had made good time, Arissa thought, and looking at her companions, eating and talking, she felt a deep sense of contentment, reminded of her time amongst the Dalish. Travelling had always kept her calm, kept her feeling free, and she had often felt kept and a little trapped staying in one place. 'Inquisitor,' Varric said, and Arissa blinked, brought back into the conversation. 'Where are we going, anyway? I trust we didn't ride all the way through the goddamn mountain range just to go sightseeing.' Arissa smiled wryly. 'We're going back to Mythal's Altar.' Sera choked on her waterskin. 'We're going to go and ask a stupid _elven god_ to help us? For shite's sake, Quizzy.' Even Cassandra looked troubled.

'Arissa, the Altar of Mythal seems…a questionable motive, at best.' Arissa nodded, understanding. 'It is also one of the last places the Inquisition would think to look for us, should they do so. And I feel a friend may well meet us there.' She reached for her pack, pulling out a ribbon tied around a black feather. 'This was left in my chambers a few days ago. It's a raven feather.' Varric's eyes lit up. 'A raven? Isn't that the Witch's bird form?' Arissa nodded. 'I agree. I think it's a message from Morrigan.' She gestured at the dark forest. 'She took me to the altar; the advisors know nothing about it. If the feather was from her, then I think it's safe to assume that she wishes to help.

She yawned, stretching like a cat. 'Time for sleep, I think,' Cassandra said, yawning too. 'It was a long day today.' Arissa nodded, and used her magic to burn the fire low. The group arranged their packs and sleeping rolls, and, once Arissa had cast wards around them, they were silent, and asleep.

 _My friends, I'm about to embark on a holiday and I'm leaving the country. I will try and update while I can but I will not have my laptop for the next few days (hence the haste with which I write this!)_

 _Favourite, follow, and please please review - and have a wonderful weekend!_

 _Dareth shiral_


	15. Witch

In the eaves of the Herald's Rest, Cole suddenly stopped midsentence, overwhelmed by the emotion of the music coming from below. 'Dancing, spinning, pipes, flute, drums, feet flying, freedom singing – you know this dance?' he asked Arissa, swaying slightly. Arissa smiled. The song the bard was playing had reminded her of the dances held within the Lavellan Clan, and a rare memory of laughing and dancing with her clan had been brought to the surface. Cole held out his hands, childlike, his eyes shining. 'Show me joy,' he asked, and Arissa couldn't help but nod. Gently, she spread his hand out, placing her fingers against his midair. Letting the steps of the dance weave into her thoughts, Arissa began to move her feet, placing one step at a time, letting Cole see her thoughts and follow them. As the music began to move, faster and faster, so too did the duo, until Cole tripped over his feet, the normally graceful spirit sending them both tumbling to the floor. Cole began to laugh, and the rare display of emotion sent Arissa into laughter also. They were still chuckling on the floor when a throat was cleared. The duo looked over to see Solas standing at the top of the stairs awkwardly. His ears had turned pink at the tips. 'If I am interrupting something,' he began, 'I would be happy to come back later.' Cole leapt to his feet and offered Arissa a hand up, which she accepted. Cole's eyes unfocused. 'Caring, nervous, what would it be like to dance with her, hold her close?' Solas flushed further and Arissa hid a smile behind her hand. Cole blinked, before turning to Solas. 'She'll say yes,' he promised, before disappearing from sight.

Solas blinked at Cole's vanishing act, then turned his eyes back to Arissa. She was still smiling shyly at him, and the innocence in her eyes stirred a longing in his heart. 'Dalen,' he asked suddenly, 'Would you dance with me?' Arissa nodded. 'I would be honoured, hahren,' she answered. Suddenly unsure, Solas bowed, proffering his hand as he did so. Arissa shook her head, laughing at his confusion.

'The Dalish Joy starts differently,' she explained, and raised her hand to face him. Slowly, he did the same, and a tingle ran down her wrist and forearm as their fingers touched. Her smile faded slightly, her eyes sparkling with intensity as she watched her dance partner. Solas looked back at her, the same intense, almost hungry look in his eyes, waiting for the next step. They began to move in time, Arissa moving Solas through the steps slowly and surely, making sure her partner learnt them correctly. 'This dance is one of the most practised and important to my clan,' she said quietly. Solas raised an eyebrow, curious. 'It is used for all joyful events; weddings, child-naming, when we feel our prayers to the gods have been answered.' His smile vanished at that, and Arissa remembered too late his dislike of the Dalish worship of the elvhen gods.

She stammered an apology, but almost as quickly he was shaking his head, smiling once more. 'Ir abelas, dalen. I should not frown upon your customs. I can sense their importance to you,' Solas said softly, and stepped a fraction closer to her, close enough that she suddenly had trouble watching where to put her feet. 'Tell me about the dances in your clan,' he inquired, and Arissa obliged, one memory in particular bubbling to the surface of her mind. 'My friend Wren, and her partner, Gendrel, had taken their life vows,' she began. 'Whilst some were preparing the wedding feast, the Keeper asked me to help prepare the dancing. He didn't know I had been practising a spell for this particular occasion, and as the night fell, I created tiny stars to sit in the trees. The rest of the night, the couple and the rest of the clan danced to the stars I made. It was the first time I truly felt what it meant to be Dalish.' Solas, for once, didn't grimace, but instead seemed entranced by her story. 'We were completely free,' she explained. 'Not even the sky seemed to stop us that night. We danced until dawn. I remember Wren laughing when she saw that even the Halla herd had stars wound into their horns. She looked so beautiful that night…' She smiled sadly at the memory. It had been a long time since she had seen her clan.

The bard ended her song, and the two stepped apart. Downstairs, Arissa could hear the Iron Bull shouting for another song, and this time he and his Chargers led the tune. One of them had brought a drum to Skyhold, and the beat added to the music. It was far faster than the song she had danced to with Cole, but if Solas was willing to try…

She reached out her hand again, and saw it already met with Solas's waiting palm. Arissa grinned, memories of past dances weaving through her thoughts. 'Let's see how much you've learnt, hahren,' she dared, and Solas grinned back, mirroring her. The two elves began to move, faster and faster through the steps. Arissa almost couldn't catch her breath; her heart was dancing, the music was flooding through her veins. The Dalish Joy was well named – Arissa couldn't help but be swept away by the music. Looking up, she could see the same wild joy beginning to catch in Solas's face, a rare display of emotion flooding the usually controlled elf. Her feet weaved in and out around her partner's, almost blurring with speed. There was a rapturous, sudden finish to the song, and Arissa tripped, caught out, falling to the floor only to be caught by Solas's waiting arms.

Both were breathing heavily, sweat dripping down the side of his face, but Solas's eyes were full of a wildness Arissa had never seen in him before. He held her there for a moment, their faces close together, before slowly pulling her back onto her feet. Arissa watched him closely, and her joy lessened a little as she watched Solas regain control. 'That was…fascinating,' he said, and she shook her head sadly. 'Not fascinating, Solas,' she answered softly. 'Joyful. Wild. Free.' She gently pulled away from his grasp, and walked down the stairs. She didn't look back and Solas watched her disappear from sight. A sigh escaped his lips as he frowned. He didn't understand. He had enjoyed the dance, enjoyed dancing with her, but…

'You shouldn't be afraid,' a voice said beside him, and Solas jumped as he realised Cole had reappeared. 'She wanted you to feel joy.' 'I did,' Solas said, nonplussed. Cole sighed. 'Feet flying, wind through her hair, magic to set the stars resting in the trees, the lethallan playing flute and pipes and drums. The true nehn.' Solas turned to Cole, understanding beginning to blossom.

'I didn't give in to the joy,' he stated, and Cole nodded. 'Enjoy the freedom she will bring your heart, Solas,' he replied. 'It will be a healing balm.' Solas left the Herald's Rest more confused than when he had arrived.

Later that night, Arissa finally returned to her chambers. It had been a long day in the War Room and Cullen had just informed her of a Venatori camp beginning to form in the Western Approach. She would have to begin plans to travel tomorrow. As she climbed the steps, her thoughts turned to the strange dancing that had occurred in the tavern. Cole had been willing to learn the dance and understand her connection with it, but Solas had not seemed to need to learn. For a moment, she had seen his mask drop, and a wild grace had taken root. The mage needed to learn to loosen up a bit, she decided, and her head was still bowed in thought when she finally reached her room. It was dark, however, and when she groped for a candle, Arissa could find none.

Her first instinct was that it was an ambush, an attempt on her life, and she entered her fighting stance. Then, she heard a whispered word, and her ceiling burst into light. As she stared up, uncomprehending, tiny stars detached themselves and lined up along the shelves, the fireplace, the bedposts, even simply hanging, suspended, in the air. Such a spell she had not seen since…

'Wren and Gendrel's wedding,' a voice finished her thought. She looked to see Solas leaning against the doorway to the balcony. He looked apologetic. 'I thought about the spell you said you had crafted, and asked Cole for help.' He looked down. 'I upset you, at the tavern,' he said quietly. 'You wanted me to understand your joy.' Arissa nodded, her throat burning with the threat of tears. Solas moved closer, and took her hands in his. Arissa moved a hand to rest gently on his cheek, and he followed it, holding her hand there with one of his own. They moved slowly together, dancing to silence, heads bowed, breathing slowed. Arissa rested her head against his shoulder, and Solas pulled her close to him, holding her. 'I do not need to understand the joy of the Dalish,' he whispered against her skin. 'All I need do is look at you. You are the example by which I see the world, see your people. If they could create someone like you, someone so full of joy and hope and fierceness and pride, then I know that that joy is worthy of beholding. You are the joy of the Dalish.'

He was still holding her when she woke up.

Her cheeks were wet with tears and she scrubbed them away quickly, angrily. It would not do for her to be seen crying, to seem weak, especially when her friends had taken the risk of fleeing with her. Besides her, Varric let out a hefty snore. She snorted in response and Sera's eyes opened, realising in the same instant who the noisy culprit was. Outraged, she threw her cloak at the dwarf and he spluttered, flailing his arms as he became entangled. Cassandra awoke immediately, rising to her feet and reaching for her sword. 'What is it?' she yelped. 'Are we being ambushed?' Arissa chuckled. 'Varric is, by Sera's cloak,' she answered, and Cassandra sheathed her sword, sighing exasperatedly.

Checking the wards hadn't been disturbed, Arissa quickly dismantled them, and with a single word breathed life back into the smouldering flames of the fire. Soon enough, breakfast was on a hot stone, and Varric, of all people, was taking charge of the cooking. Under his surprisingly talented eyes, some of the dried rations packed seemed to transform into flavoursome, fresh-tasting food. 'Are you sure you don't have magic, Varric?' Arissa teased, and the dwarf laughed. 'Nah, I'm just a damn fine cook.' Even Sera seemed impressed. 'You're just full of surprises,' she commented, stuffing her face.

Once they had fed, Arissa saddled her horse and mounted him. The others followed suit, Sera pausing only to scuff out the fire and hide any evidence they had been there. With Arissa leading the way, the party entered the fringes of the Arbor Wilds, and after a couple of wandering hours, finally found the remnants of the war camp the Inquisition had formed for the basis of their assault on Corypheus's army. Remembering the route, Arissa picked up the pace, and led the group to a beautiful waterfall. She stopped and dismounted. Confused, the others remained on their horses. 'The horses won't want to go through,' she explained. 'The Altar is through a passageway behind it.' Sera grumbled. 'You mean we're going to get soaked? If I'd know that I would have brought a hooded cloak.' Cassandra made a disgusted noise. 'A little water wouldn't kill you, Sera,' she answered. 'Perhaps even some soap from time to time…' Sera twisted round in her saddle, outraged, but before she could reply Arissa stamped her foot, sparks flying. 'We don't have time for this!' she said exasperatedly. 'We need to get to the Altar now!' Slowly, her friends followed her lead, and once the horses were tied to nearby trees, the four walked slowly to the waterfall. Arissa used a barrier to hold off the worst of the water, and once all had passed through led the way through the passage. Veilfire burnt brightly in braziers along the tunnel, and soon enough Arissa saw the glimpse of light at the other end. Excitedly, she picked up the pace, and before too long they had left the passageway behind and had entered a new part of the Wilds.

'Is it just me, or does something feel…different about this part of the Arbor?' Varric wondered, and again Arissa marvelled at the dwarf. 'There is strong magic here,' she answered. 'I can feel it in the air.' Sera rolled her eyes. 'Have I ever mentioned how great it is when there's loads of magic around?' she said sarcastically. 'I mean, by your account, Redcliffe was just frigging peachy!' Arissa looked at her, eyebrows raised, and Sera shrugged unapologetically. 'Just telling it like it is, Quizzy.' Cassandra had stopped walking, and was pointing in the direction they were going. 'I think I see something, Inquisitor,' she called out, and Arissa followed her hand. There, blending in with the forest, was a large marble wall. The outer wall of the Altar of Mythal.

The party walked with renewed purpose, and just before they came to the arching entranceway, Arissa stopped walking. 'Just…don't upset Morrigan,' she pleaded, and the party looked at her. 'She's probably gone through a fair amount,' she explained. 'She did fight a dragon.' Her friends nodded, Sera groaning as she did so, and Arissa led them through into the great clearing. The others gasped – Arissa recalled that they had not seen the inner circle of the Altar before. Green grass, speckled with tiny white flowers, grew boldy, uncut and unchallenged. Brightly coloured birds nested in the trees surrounding the grove, and there, by the altar, waited a figure dressed in black. Arissa recognised the raven feathers on the clothing, and hurried over, kneeling before the altar briefly, until she felt the trees whisper her welcome.

'It certainly took you long enough to answer my summons,' Morrigan said drily, and Arissa couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. 'Much has happened in your absence, Lady Morrigan,' she answered, and Morrigan laughed. 'I have seen it all happen, Inquisitor. Your spell of despair, Solas's unexpected time in Skyhold, the fight with that handsome soldier…' Arissa's eyes widened. She had seen what had happened? She had seen Solas?

'What happened to Solas?' she blurted out, and Morrigan sighed. 'I cannot say,' she answered, and Arissa's face hardened. 'Can't or won't?' 'Can't,' Morrigan said sharply. 'I have been called for under Mythal's geas. It is her command to not reveal Solas's actions just yet.' Her face softened. 'I am allowed to tell you of what has transpired to me, however, should you like to know.' Arissa nodded, and Morrigan sat down, indicating the rest of the group to do the same.

'I was summoned by Mythal not long after leaving Skyhold. Kieran and I….we had hoped to lose ourselves again, get away from her influence, but with the Vir'abelasan she knew exactly where I was and would be. I felt her calling in my mind, and was summoned to her side. She had begun to prepare for unethera, and required my presence to protect her body whilst she slumbered. I was given two weeks to provide for Kieran – I sent him to Redcliffe, to live under Alistair's protection. Since then, however…I have not left her side.' She waved her hand, and magic shimmered over the altar, revealing the outline of a woman asleep. Arissa gasped, and Morrigan dispersed the spell. 'She is harmless, Inquisitor, I promise. She works through me but there are limits even to her great power.'

Varric and Sera both looked terrified at the reveal of Mythal's sleeping form, but Cassandra looked curious. 'Why did you call us here then, mage?' Morrigan looked directly at her. 'I wish for news of Kieran, Inquisitor.' Sera groaned, and began to stand up, Varric and Cassandra following her lead. Morrigan looked panicked. 'I beg of you, he is my son! My only child! I cannot leave her alone, but my son must know of me and I of him! Please, Inquisitor, please help us!' She was agonized, and Arissa thought carefully. 'We bring you news of your son, and you will tell us what you know about Solas's actions and whereabouts?' Morrigan considered her words briefly. 'If Mythal allows it….yes, yes, that will work. I can feel her agreement.' She stood, offering Arissa a hand. 'Be grateful you did not drink from the Well, friend,' she warned. 'This geas seeks to ruin me.'

Arissa looked into Morrigan's amber eyes, her own full of determination. 'This bargain will be kept, Morrigan, you have my word.' The four travellers left her standing there, by the altar. Once they were at a safe distance, Morrigan sank to her knees, defeated.

 _Aneth ara! I have managed to find a temporary solution for my problem, and although my own laptop is out of commission I have made other arrangements. Updates will still be slowed, but there will be updates!_

 _Dareth shiral._


	16. Desperation

Past the waterfall, Arissa conjured tiny heated winds to help them dry. 'Are you mad, Inquisitor?' Sera demanded as soon as she was able. 'We're expected to go all the way to bugging Redcliffe for that – that witch?' Varric and Cassandra looked to her too, eyes full of questions. 'I have to admit, Inquisitor, it does seem like a long way to go,' Cassandra admitted. Arissa turned to her. 'If Kieran is in Redcliffe, that means he's with Alistair. If Alistair has Kieran, then he's definitely met with Morrigan. The Inquisition want Alistair to give them the truth, and if they see that child with him, who's to say they won't take Kieran for questioning? Kieran can't cope and tells them the truth about Morrigan, they come to the Altar to question her – it either ends with a hell of a lot of people dying, or they find Solas. And that's not going to happen.'

Cassandra considered her words carefully, then nodded, sighing in agreement. 'Very well. Might I suggest we find somewhere to send a raven? Clearly Skyhold is out of the question…' Varric cleared his throat. 'I seem to recall there were some tiny twinkling lights on the horizon on our way here last night. Maybe we can get them to send a message on our way?' Arissa nodded, relieved someone else had thought of a plan. 'I have a letter of my own to send,' she added, 'To my clan. I'm hoping they might know of the spell that Solas used to attack Leliana with.'

'Then we have a plan,' Cassandra stated, untying her horse's reins from the branch. She mounted into the saddle, checking that her sword was still tied securely to her belt. Sera and Varric did the same, and once Arissa had cast a long look back at the waterfall, with all its magical, wonderful mysteries hidden behind it, she followed suit.

The 'tiny twinkling lights' turned out to be another half day's ride away, and Sera was angrily cursing Varric by the time they arrived. It was a small collection of cottages, a rundown tavern, and a rookery, filled with only a few, mottled ravens. Arissa led the way, her hood hiding her face, and the others did the same – Cassandra especially. As the instigator of the Inquisition, she was one of the more recognisable faces in Thedas, and now that their absence would surely have been discovered, she was perhaps the most likely to draw attention. An old man tended to the ravens, and his face puckered in dislike as he saw the newcomers. 'Two silvers for anywhere further than Haven,' he croaked. 'Two golds if you're going as far as Denerim.' A particularly old and grey raven hopped closer, cawing for corn. The old man gave an ear to the bird and it perched onto his shoulder. Arissa held out a palm, several gold pieces resting inside it. The man stared, reaching out for it, but Arissa swiftly drew her hand back. 'I need to send two letters, with the utmost discretion, and with your fastest ravens,' she stated. The man nodded, and Arissa poured the gold into his palm.

He retreated to the back of the rookery, and brought forward two ravens with purple ribbons tied around a foot each. Arissa quickly amended the letter to Clan Lavellan, asking them to send their reply to Castle Redcliffe, and wrote another, short, letter to Ser Alistair, informing him of their impending visit, and begging him for total discretion. Once the letters were writ and sealed, the old man tethered them to the ravens, and thrust them through an open window, where they wheeled into the darkening sky before departing to the north. Arissa thanked the old man, before inquiring about the tavern.

'They'll do a hot meal and a pint of summat,' he answered. 'No rooms to speak of though – none that would be acceptable to sleep in, Inquisitor.' Arissa jumped at the title, and the man laughed wheezily. 'You'll need to not flash Orlesian gold around in Fereldan. Surest way to tell whose Inquisition and whose not.' She looked at him, alarmed, and the old man smiled. 'Not to worry, elf. If you've gone your own way for a reason I won't pass it on.' She smiled, relieved, and retreated to the tavern. The woman serving was sour, and so was the beer, but the food was hot and filling, and with full stomachs Arissa could almost look forward to the rest of the day's ride. Her friends, too, were in good spirits, and as they left the tiny village behind, morale was high. Varric entertained them all with stories, and Cassandra was eagerly anticipating every cliffhanger and heartbreak as he spoke. Each time someone seemed fated to die, Cassandra seemed to swoon, and it was only after she very nearly fell off her horse did Varric cut down on the shocking plotlines.

All too soon, however, it was nightfall, and the party had to make camp, taking shelter underneath a large willow trees, its branches hiding them from the view of the outside world. Arissa pulled a map from her bag and marked their progress. 'That tiny village was a few miles from the southern point of the Frostbacks,' she remarked, 'And we've travelled much further today. That would place us about…here.' She pointed to a remote spot in between the Korcari Wilds and the mountain range. Cassandra frowned. 'That's not far enough. We need to make better distance tomorrow, else the Inquisition forces find us.'

She studied the map. 'How long did you say we had to travel to Alistair?' Arissa frowned. 'A few days. Why?' Cassandra smiled, content. 'If we don't stop except for food and for the horses, we'll be there within two nights. Perfect.' Sera caught on, smiling. 'So if the Inquisition finds out, we'll be in and out before they even arrive! Well done, Quizzy.' Arissa smiled uncertainly, unwilling to admit it had been a fluke. Varric blew out the embers of the fire. 'We'll need to rise with the sun,' he yawned, 'So maybe it would be a good idea to get some shuteye now?' Cassandra nodded, and for the second night, all four slept beneath the open sky.

Cullen was growing frantic. The Inquisitor had been missing for over a day, and as more people noted her absence, it became more and more difficult to resist going out to search for her himself. So as not to disturb the people, he had contented with merely sending the spies, but as another precious day passed, Cullen feared that she might slip beyond the Inquisition's grasp. He slammed his fists onto the desk just as Josephine knocked timidly, pushing his door slightly open. She gasped, unused to his fits of violence, and immediately the anger dispersed. 'I'm so sorry, Josephine, I didn't hear you enter.' He gestured to the chair in front of his desk. 'Please, sit.'

She did so, watching him carefully. 'Com – Cullen, what is the matter?' Her face was honest, open, and he could read her as easily as he had been able to read Arissa. Cullen sighed, sinking into his own chair. 'We're not going to find her. Arissa. She'll disappear and we'll never know what happened to her.' Josephine frowned. 'She is a powerful mage, Cullen, and remember that she is not alone. If she falls into mortal danger Cassandra, at least, would see the sense in contacting the Inquisition.' Cullen steepled his fingertips in front of him, resting his elbows on the desk.

'Josephine,' he began, 'I think perhaps the spies will not be enough.' Josephine raised an eyebrow. 'We cannot begin to send out missives to half of Thedas,' she answered immediately, 'There would be chaos if people knew the Inquisitor had gone missing.' Cullen shook his head. 'You misunderstand me,' he replied. 'I intend to go after her myself.'

There was a knock on the door, and one of Cullen's men entered. 'Your horse has been saddled, and provisions packed,' he reported. 'Whenever you are ready, sir.' Cullen nodded, and the soldier made a fist above his heart, nodding to Josephine, before departing. She looked at Cullen as he was mad. Perhaps he was. 'You cannot think to leave me here, with Leliana in this state, and with the Inquisitor missing! I cannot run Skyhold by myself!' Cullen stood up, and walked around the desk. He put his hands gently on Josephine's shoulders. 'I will never forgive myself if I do not try my hand at searching for her.'

'His heart glows.' Cullen and Josephine jumped, as Cole emerged from the shadows. His hat hung low over his face as he spoke to the floor. 'I want to go too.' The advisors looked at each other, then back at Cole. 'You…want to join me?' Cullen asked, curiously. Cole nodded. 'Hands touching, sparks flying, the possibilities of that moment, faces growing warm and close.' He blinked. 'You need my help. And so does she.' Josephine looked between the two, and threw up her hands in exasperation.

'Since I clearly cannot change your mind, I have no choice but to accept your proposal,' she huffed, and made her way to the door. As she lifted the latch, she looked back at Cullen. 'You have five days,' she snapped, her eyes flashing angrily. 'If there is no news, then you return to Skyhold immediately. We have to devote our resources to finishing off the remnants of Corypheus's army, the Venatori, and then we still need to start trying to track down Solas.' The door swung, and closed with a bang after she left. Cole hadn't moved.

'She cares about all of us, wants us all home. Safe, sound, sleeping. Like a mother.' Cole seemed to see through the door. 'Head in her hands, trying to hold in the tears. Her friend is still close to death, and suddenly she must bear the burden.' Cullen felt guilt spread across his heart. Should he really do this? Take off into the night and leave Josie to deal with the might of the Inquisition alone?

'Yes,' Cole answered, watching him. 'I need a horse.' Cullen sighed, before gesturing to the door himself. 'Then let's get going.'


	17. Redcliffe

Arissa awoke to a raining sky, and woke her friends quickly. 'We should get moving before the worst of this arrives,' she warned, and the four saddled the horses and continued on their journey. After an hour or so on horseback, Arissa became aware of someone humming. She twisted around in her saddle, and caught Sera in the act. The elf turned pink. 'You weren't, by any chance, humming a song named after a certain elf?' Arissa asked, raising an eyebrow. Sera nodded slowly, looking sheepish, as Varric exploded into hoarse laughter. Even Cassandra was sniggering, and Arissa couldn't help but giggle at Sera's face. Sera glared at all of them. 'Yeah, yeah, you're all just jealous that I've got a song and you haven't!' Varric was still laughing some time later, and as they passed the flags, declaring that this was the Region of the Hinterlands, even managed to break into the song itself. Arissa and Cassandra joined in, and after a moment's sulking Sera sang as well, her surprisingly good voice helping the others – specifically Varric, she made sure to point out later – find the tune.

It took just less than two and a half days to reach the Hinterlands. As they passed through, Arissa recognised Dennett's old farm, and even saw his younger daughter tending the horses. She wanted to wave, call out a welcome, but all too quickly remembered the nature of her mission. Total secrecy. 'Cassandra,' she instructed in a low voice, 'Put your cloak up. Varric, too.' Sera looked at her, curiously. Arissa smiled grimly. 'We're just lowly knife-ears,' she said. 'Our masters need discretion, but who would care about two sullen elves?' Sera thought the plan, then nodded in agreement. 'What about our weapons?' she asked. Arissa sighed. She had forgotten. 'Give them to the others. We'll just have to hope no one thinks to attack us.' They rearranged the horses as well, letting Varric and Cassandra ride in front, whilst her and Sera flanked from behind.

The party rode in silence until they reached Redcliffe, a few dozen miles of beautiful woodlands and sweet callings of the birds. As they passed through the gates, however, a man seemed to emerge from the shadow to meet them. 'Forgive me, but are you the Inquisitor?' Cassandra looked uneasily back at Arissa. The man dropped his hooded cloak and looked directly to the elf. 'I am Connor, nephew of Bann Teagan. We received your missive and I was sent to wait for you here. Varric stirred uneasily at the name. The boy looked at him. 'You have heard of me, then?' Varric shrugged. 'I'm a storyteller by trade. I hear all kinds of shit. The one about you though…demons and the dead?' Connor nodded helplessly. 'All true,' he answered, and turned away. 'If you would follow me…Ser Alistair and Bann Teagan are waiting at the castle.' Arissa nodded, and let him lead the way. Varric pulled back his horse to walk by her side. 'Arissa,' he whispered, 'The kid's a powerful mage. Be careful around him. What he did as a child…there's a reason he doesn't go into the village.' Arissa stared at Connor's back. 'He seems….sad,' she remarked, and Cassandra gave a heavy sigh. 'His magic feels powerful, yes, but it also seems…dusty. Disused.'

Before they could say anything more, they entered the village of Redcliffe, and it took only moments more before they were clattering across the drawbridge and into the front courtyard of Redcliffe Castle, much improved since Arissa's last visit. At a word from Connor, two servants ran forward to take the horse's reins, and Arissa and her friends dismounted. Connor bowed to her formally. 'I welcome you to Redcliffe, Inquisitor.' Before he could say anything else, however, the doors to the great hall opened and two men came striding through, talking earnestly. One was older than the other, grey streaking through his sandy hair and beard, but wore the seal of Redcliffe on a belt and radiated power. The younger man besides him, by contact, still had golden locks, and wore the seal of the Wardens, although it had discoloured from disuse. As he noticed the Inquisitor and her friends, however, Alistair stopped talking and threw out his hands.

'Arissa! Please tell me you haven't come all this way to drag me back into the Fade!' Arissa laughed, shaking her head. 'Not today, my friend.' Alistair strode down the steps, and ignored her outstretched hand, instead electing to throw his arms around her. 'It is so good to see you, Inquisitor. Ah, may I introduce my uncle, Bann Teagan?' The ser smiled at her kindly, and Arissa bowed low. 'It is more welcome of you to accept us into your hold,' she said, and Teagan chuckled. 'Please, it is no trouble. Had I refused, Alistair would have thrown a tantrum and sulked for weeks. He speaks very highly of you, Inquisitor.'

Arissa straightened up, smiling. 'Then you have my thanks, my lord.' Teagan gestured behind him, to the oaken doors. 'Shall we step inside? I'll have the servants fetch you something hot to eat.' He looked to Connor. 'Go and find your mother, pup. See if she will join us.' Connor nodded, and disappeared through a side door. 'Isolde…she has not been herself, the last few months. I had intended to send her to Denerim, to Eamon, but what happened in Redcliffe last year took a severe toll on her mind. It reminded her too much of what happened when Connor was young…' Arissa looked at him, uncomprehending. Teagan stopped. 'You mean you don't know? You didn't hear?' Arissa shook her head, shrugging. 'I had never left the Free Marches until the Conclave. We don't get a lot of news over there.'

Teagan raised his eyes to the skies, pain misting over his features. Alistair took the opportunity to jump in. 'During the Fifth Blight, Connor was possessed by a desire demon,' he explained quietly. 'When Aurelie and I arrived, hoping for Eamon's help in calling a Landsmeet, Redcliffe was terrorized by the dead. Eamon was already sick, poisoned, and Connor made a foolish decision. Uncle Teagan was enchanted. Blood magic was involved. It was quickly rectified, but Connor has been shunned by the villagers ever since, and since the mage's rebellion was sorted out has refused to touch his magic. It was a bad time here.' Arissa's eyes sparked slightly at Aurelie's name.

'The Warden? She's here?' she asked, and Alistair shook his head, grimacing. 'Aurelie returned a few weeks ago from her…personal mission, but she and her brother Fergus were sent on a political mission across to the Free Marches by Queen Anora not long after. We've been…spending some time apart, as a result.' Alistair frowned, but before Arissa could ask him any further questions Teagan was gesturing for Arissa to sit, and servants were bringing out hot tea, beer, and fresh caught fish from Redcliffe Harbour, cooked to perfection. The Inquisitor and her friends took no time to fall upon the food ravenously, Arissa only avoiding the hot tea. 'I detest the stuff,' a voice whispered in her head, and Arissa had to push it aside, a bad feeling settling in her stomach. Thankfully, her friends covered her lack of speech for themselves, and Alistair and Teagan were howling with laughter at Varric and Sera's tales.

As they ate, the doors opened, and a tall, blonde woman walked in slowly, accompanied by Connor and – Arissa gasped – by a young, black haired child. Kieran held on to one of the woman's arms, gently guiding her towards a chair. She looked accusingly at Alistair, who reciprocated with a guilty face. 'This is your chair, Aunt Isolde,' Kieran said, and she stared vacantly at him as she sat. 'Mother,' Connor tried, 'Would you like a little fish?' Isolde turned to him, astonishment on her features. 'Connor?' her heavy voice held an Orlesian accent. 'Is that you? The demon had you in its clutches, the dead everywhere – did I fall asleep? Have I missed your childhood? Oh, my boy…' Connor knelt beside her, and held his palm against her face. 'It is alright, Mother,' he whispered gently. 'I survived. We all survived. And look – this is a guest in Redcliffe. Her name is Arissa.' Isolde turned to looked at Arissa, her gaze sharpening in dislike as she saw her pointed ears.

'An elf?' Arissa nodded. 'Andaran atish'an, Lady Isolde. Your home is lovely.' Isolde said nothing in reply, but scowled at the plate of steaming fish placed in front of her. She ate in silence and faded into the background, noticed only by the young. The remainder of the guests continued to eat, and once they were finished and their plates were cleared, were shown to their respective rooms, leaving Arissa to talk to Alistair and Teagan alone.

'To business, then,' Teagan began, and from his pocket withdrew a letter, the one that Arissa recognized as writing merely a few days before. 'This letter asks for discretion, and also stated that you wouldn't arrive for another week. If it's not too inquisitive, may I ask why the need for urgency and secrecy?' Arissa took a breath. 'The mission I am on is of a personal nature,' she answered slowly. 'It has not…been approved, shall we say, by the Inquisition.' Alistair raised an eyebrow, smiling. 'Arissa, what have you got yourself mixed up in?' She looked at him, her face open and honest. 'Solas was seen in Skyhold, a few days ago. He attacked Leliana and left her for dead before escaping. The Inquisition wants his head.' Alistair looked shocked, then reviewed her choice of words. ''The Inquisition'? As in, not yourself?'

Arissa nodded. 'Even if Solas did attack her, there's no way he would have done so willingly. I'm hoping to find him before the Inquisition does, get some answers and…' and what? Arissa realized that she hadn't actually considered the long time plan. Right now, she just needed to find Solas, reunite with him. Then they could figure out the next step. Alistair watched her thoughts play across her face. 'Just trying to find him seems like a mammoth challenge,' he offered, and Arissa nodded gratefully. 'Yes. Indeed.' Teagan leaned forward, intrigued. 'So why did you come to Redcliffe? I can assure you, there have been no sightings of strange elves here?' Arissa looked studiously at Alistair.

'I bring word from Morrigan.' Alistair went white. Teagan glanced at him uncertainly. 'You've seen the Witch, then?' he asked. Arissa nodded. 'It's…complex. I'm not sure what Morrigan told you of her circumstances.'

'Only that she was unable to care for Kieran. That as his father, it was my duty,' Alistair answered, his lip curling. 'I, who had not known the boy for ten years, suddenly expected to be a father?' He looked to the heavens, briefly. 'But he is a good child. A little odd, perhaps, but I think he takes that from my side of the family.' Alistair winked and Arissa suddenly felt relieved. At least she could promise Morrigan that Kieran was cared for. Teagan rose, and his companions followed. 'It is late,' he announced, 'and I trust that this mission of yours works better in daylight. Alistair, Arissa, I bid you goodnight.' Both bowed, and Teagan vanished through a side door. Alistair turned to Arissa. 'To be fair, he's got the right idea. I could sleep for a decade.' Arissa nodded her agreement, and Alistair showed her to her rooms, before departing to his own. Arissa collapsed into bed, falling asleep almost instantly.

Meanwhile, two figures made a silent, awkward camp at the southern base of the Frostback Mountains. Cullen had stoked the fire, whilst Cole had laid traps for the wild animals that might think to attack. With food cooking slowly, Cullen leant back on his roll. Thanks to an unforeseen snowstorm, it had taken the two far longer than would have been expected to reach the base of the mountain range. The snowstorm had also wiped away any tracks Arissa and her party might have led. It left Cullen with fury and confusion, a combination that Cole was struggling to get to grips with. Thankfully, the sky tonight was clear, if cold, and Cullen made a show of pointing out as many constellations as he could remember. 'Toth,' he remarked aloud. 'The dragon. That strange ship…' Cullen sighed. His memory was clearly not as good as he thought.

'Cole,' he asked, 'Do you know any constellations?' Cole shook his head. 'People make wishes on them, send their hopes and dreams to the sky, hoping that someone will finally answer them.' He looked at Cullen. 'You wished to die, wanted the nightmares gone for good in whatever way they would go, prayed to the Maker to save you. And then she arrived, and then she helped, and she was your star.' Cole's accuracy was alarming, and Cullen shivered slightly. Cole cocked his head, like a puppy, watching him.

'I know I scare you,' he said. 'I scare lots of people. But I don't want you to be afraid of me. I want to help.' Cullen studied the boys face. So young, no more than twenty. Yet he had seen his own share of horrors, enough to rival even Cullen's miserable life. He sighed, and Cole smiled, knowing that he had Cullen's acceptance.

'It wasn't your fault,' he said softly. 'She wanted to search from the start. In a way, you helped her. You freed her.' 'But at what cost?' Cullen answered. 'She could die, she could get hurt – there's no way to help her.' Cole smiled again. 'That's the price of freedom. She knew the risks. She didn't want to hurt anyone else.'

Cullen lay on his back, staring up at the sky. He hadn't imagined Cole would be able to help, but, for once, the knot of worry that had once been his heart loosened slightly. A tiny snarl had gone. Cullen was still upset and concerned, worried for Arissa, but his guilt had lessened over her departure. 'Thank you, Cole,' he whispered. Cole nodded. 'No more tonight. You need to sleep.' Cullen agreed, turning onto his side and closing his eyes.


	18. Nightmare

Arissa awoke to the sounds of breaking glass and faint screams coming from the floor above. She shot out of bed, reaching for her staff and running for the door. Throwing it open, she saw Alistair running down the corridor himself. 'Kieran!' he shouted desperately, and Arissa followed, up a flight of stairs and into Kieran's bedroom. Kieran had knocked over a crystal glass by his bedside, and in his panic had thrown the bedsheets off the bed, snagging the table and bringing it crashing to the floor. Alistair had raced to Kieran's side and held him tightly, smoothing his hair and whispering words into his ear as the boy wept. As Arissa crashed to a halt at the doorway, she heard clatterings behind her, and saw that Varric and Cassandra had followed, both armed and ready to fight. Alistair looked up to see them standing there, and shook his head. Arissa closed the door softly, leaving Alistair to tend to his son, and turned around to face her friends.

'I heard a crash, and screams,' Cassandra explained, frowning. 'As I'm sure you both did.' Arissa and Varric nodded, and Varric sighed. 'Looks like the kid had one hell of a nightmare.' He disarmed Bianca, and rested her on his shoulder. 'Can I go back to sleep now?' he asked. 'I was in the middle of a very nice dream.' Arissa chuckled, nodding, and Varric padded back to his room, emitting a loud yawn. Cassandra hesitated. 'If I can be of assistance…' she began softly, and Arissa shook her head. 'I don't think we're needed,' she answered softly, and the two women began to walk back down the corridor. The door to Kieran's room opened, and Alistair stuck his head out, concerned. Arissa turned around at the calling of her name. 'He wants to see you,' Alistair said, and Arissa bade goodnight to Cassandra before walking back to the room. Alistair held the door open for her.

'He said he dreamt about one of your Gods. Some wolf or other.' Arissa shivered, before turning and sitting herself, cross-legged, on Kieran's bed. 'Did you dream of the Dread Wolf, da'len?' Kieran nodded, pulling up his sheets to his neck, his eyes still wide and haunted. Arissa felt alarm spread through her. The still, unusual boy she had met with Morrigan in Skyhold was gone. Now, he was just a child, Alistair's son. 'What did he say to you?' The boy looked at her with shining eyes.

'He wanted to know about you,' he answered, and a chill flew down her spine. Arissa kept her voice light, and calm. 'Oh? What did he want to know?' Kieran swallowed, his eyes flicking to Alistair as if for approval. 'He wanted to know…if you were alive. If you were happy.' What? Arissa looked at Kieran intensely, but he didn't continue. 'Will you tell me a story?' he asked suddenly. 'About the Dalish?' Arissa smiled. This, at least, she could offer. 'I could tell you a story about my Clan, if you like,' she offered, and Kieran smiled.

'I was much younger than you,' she began, 'Perhaps only five or six summers old. I became separated from my Clan. They were moving the aravels to our summer camp, and I had been sitting by the river, playing hide and seek with one of the other children. They must have forgotten that I was playing, because when I went back to the campsite, they were gone. I searched for hours but my Clan had left me behind. I sat down in the dust, right where my parents aravel had rested, and cried for hours. Eventually, I got so tired I climbed a tree and fell asleep, sitting in the branches. When I woke up, it was dark, and I could hear a pack of wolves howling nearby. They were drawing closer, and closer, and I sat on the branch, terrified. Any Dalish child knew the stories of Fen'Harel, the Dread Wolf, and I couldn't move for fear!' Kieran gasped, his eyes wide. Arissa smiled at his enraptured face. 'But then, as if the Creators themselves felt my fright, I heard the sound of hooves, and what came around the corner but a beautiful, silver halla! She stopped, right underneath the tree I was sitting in, and looked straight up at me. To this day, I still don't know how she found me. But with her close, I felt safe, and I climbed down the tree and sat on her back. I called her Enansal, which means 'Blessing' in your tongue, and she carried me away from the wolves, all the long miles back to her summer camp. The Keeper didn't let me out of her sight for weeks.' Kieran smiled, and leaned back on the pillows.

'Any time I hear a wolf cry now,' Arissa whispered, as Kieran's eyes began to close, 'I imagine Enansal is still carrying me to safety, and I never feel afraid.' As soon as she knew that Kieran was sleeping soundly, she stood up, and went to the door. She motioned for Alistair to step outside and as he did so, she shut the door gently behind her.

'The Dread Wolf?' Alistair asked, spooked. 'Forgive me, I don't know much about your people.' Arissa shrugged. 'You may know him as Fen'Harel. He is known amongst the elves as being responsible for the sealing away of the rest of the Creators – our gods, if you like – making him indirectly responsible for the fall of Elvhenan to the Imperium.' She shivered. 'Kieran's words didn't make any sense.' Alistair nodded. 'You're telling me.' He yawned, and Arissa placed a gentle hand upon his shoulder. 'Go to bed, Alistair. I'll walk the Fade tonight, and keep him safe.' Alistair smiled gratefully. 'Thank you, Inquisitor.'

They departed ways, and it wasn't long before Arissa was preparing herself for sleep once more. Taking a breath, she shut her eyes, and willed herself into the dreaming landscape of the Fade. Tiny pinpricks of other dreamers flashed across her eyes, and without too much difficulty she located Kieran. The boy's sleeping form was lying in an imagined bed, a replica of reality, and he slept soundly. Making herself comfortable, Arissa sat, cross legged, at the bottom of the bed, and resolved to guard him. As she watched his face, she heard from behind her a familiar tapping of hooves. Arissa turned to see a silvery shadow, a silver halla, walking out of the Fade mist. 'Hello, old friend,' Arissa greeted her softly, and the spirit of Enansal bowed her head, before going to her place at Kieran's side. The elf and the halla sat there, peaceful, watching the sleeping child and guarding his dreams.

It was here that Cole found her.

'I've been looking every night!' Arissa turned and saw her friend walking through the Fade, out of the mist, towards her. 'Hello, Cole,' she replied, suddenly ashamed. She had not forgotten the way she had left him behind. Cole sat in front of her, mirroring her position, and took her hands in his. 'Are you helping people?' he asked. Arissa looked at him thoughtfully. 'I'm trying,' she answered. 'Then that's all that matters,' he said, and squeezed her hands, smiling. Arissa was relieved. The spirit was her closest friend, her confidante, and had he rejected her Arissa didn't know what she would have done.

'Where are you?' he asked. 'I wish I could tell you, Cole. I'm safe, I promise. I'm helping. Where are you?' It was Cole's turn to look ashamed. 'I broke the promise. I'm not at Skyhold anymore. Cullen needed my help.'

'Cullen?' Arissa was surprised. The commander had never shown any interest in accepting Cole as a friend, never mind an ally. It had been one of the things they had clashed on. 'Yes,' Cole answered. 'He wishes that the argument hadn't happened. The Templar doesn't want to hurt the mage, bring her home, bring her to safety. Skyhold is your home and his. He thinks it was his fault.' Arissa looked down at her hands, as if inspecting them. 'It wasn't his fault,' she said eventually, quietly. 'I wanted to leave anyway. He just gave me what I needed to go.' She looked back at the boy, who nodded. 'That's what I said.'

'We're tracking you,' he continued. 'Cullen wants to find you, make you safe, keep you safe, protect you. You're a star that he doesn't want to fall.' He looked at her. 'His pain is old. It needs to heal. You are part of it.' Arissa raised her eyebrows, surprised. 'I'm part of Cullen's pain? But I haven't done anything to him!'

'You chose Solas.'

Arissa released Cole's hands. 'That's what this is about? He's upset because I fell in love with someone else?' Cole frowned. 'Pain, passion, desire, longing, sadness. Solas is everything to you. He shapes your world for salvation or destruction. Cullen is a balm, a healing potion. He will keep away the dark.'

Arissa raised her eyes to the heavens, and couldn't help but laugh. Cole – a spirit – of all people, giving her advice of the heart. 'Cole,' she began gently, 'Know that you are right. Solas does mean everything to me. And whether or not he – he refuses my company, or chooses to stay, or whatever he decides, I cannot think of anything else but his wellbeing. I need to know if he's okay.' Her voice was low, pleading, begging for Cole to understand her pain. 'I need to find him before I can think of anything. I need to.' Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes, and Cole took her hands again. He nodded, understanding brightening his eyes, and relief flooded through her.

'I'll give you time to find him, then. But –' and here he paused, hesitant. 'Cole?' Arissa asked curiously. He shook his head. 'I promised. But I cannot say how long you have. Cullen misses you.' She pulled her hands away slowly, sadness seeping through the cracks as she realised Cole's meaning. He wanted to help Cullen.

Cole stood, suddenly. 'I have to go. Cullen is having nightmares. We're going to find a stream of sunlight tomorrow.' Arissa realised that he was trying to give her time, time to find Solas, and she nodded in response. 'Goodbye, Cole.' It saddened her. As long as Cole was with Cullen, he could report back on her position. She would have to banish him from her mind for the time being. Cole disappeared into the mist, and Arissa bent it to her will, forming a solid wall of cloud. Gently, she surrounded herself, the Halla and the sleeping Kieran with it, and sat there, deep in thought, until morning.

 _So I'm aware that the updates haven't just been slow...they kinda stopped for a wee bit. There've been all sorts of havoc with my laptop and poor wifi and I'm currently having a war with Dell about it all. Thankfully, I had access to this story today (I've had to continue writing it on a different laptop) and as such I'm going to try and upload a chapter every day for hopefully the next week!_

 _Dareth shiral._


	19. Kieran

When Arissa finally awoke, she felt sore, and tired. Although her body had been asleep, her mind had not, and it was a cranky Inquisitor who descended down to the hall for breakfast. A servant brought her a hot mug of tea and she downed it in one, feeling immediately better. As she reached for a piece of toasted bread, Alistair entered, yawning. They were both tired, then. 'Good night?' she asked, and Alistair grinned. 'Oh, the usual. Nightmares, screaming, and for some reason I dreamt of a dancing halla all night.' Arissa hid a smile behind her hand. 'How is Kieran?' Alistair grew serious. 'He didn't wake again. Whatever you did, worked. Thank you.' She nodded. 'It was no trouble. I was happy to watch over him. I've had it done myself a couple of times.'

Alistair raised an eyebrow. 'I'm not surprised. You've gone through a hell of a lot in the past year or so.' A question rested on his face, and Arissa sighed, knowing what he was about to ask. 'If I may ask…who taught you to guard against the nightmares? Who guarded you?' Arissa could almost feel her face grow still and smooth. 'Solas,' she replied stiffly, and Alistair flinched at the hurt in her tone. 'My apologies, my lady. I should not have inquired. I know all too well the feeling of an absence of the heart.' Arissa's face softened. 'It's alright,' she said. 'No harm done.' As Alistair sat, the remainder of Arissa's party came through the door, and Sera made a beeline for the eggs. 'Seems I missed a hell of a party last night then, yeah?' she asked. Varric yawned in response, and nodded to Arissa, before addressing Alistair. 'How's the kid?' Alistair shrugged. 'As well as can be expected. I'll take him some breakfast.' He gathered a plate of food, and left the Inquisition members to eat in peace.

'So,' Sera began, her mouth full of food, 'What did I miss last night then?' Arissa related the night's events, and Sera pulled a face at the mention of Fen'Harel. 'Why the buggery was he dreaming about a made up wolf?' She went to work on the toast, talking as she ate. 'Like, I can imagine more normal things to dream of.' Cassandra made a disgusted noise at Sera's table manners, or lack thereof. 'The point is, Sera,' she replied stiffly,' Is that Kieran is not a normal boy. Don't forget he is Morrigan's son, and until recently…' Cassandra stopped at a look from Arissa. Sera and Varric looked between them.

'What? Is there something you're not telling us?' Sera demanded, and Varric frowned. 'Come on, Inquisitor. Out with it. What do you and Seeker know?' Arissa hesitated. 'I'm not sure it's my place to say.' Varric groaned. 'Arissa. You can't just dangle something tantalising before us and then take it away!' A servant brought forward hot spiced wine, and poured Varric a cup. He took a gulp, wincing at the heat, and Sera took the chance to speak. 'Quizzy, you are one sentence away from either getting bees in your bedroll or flowers. Think carefully!' A grin formed her face as she spoke, but Arissa knew from experience that the elf did not joke about bees. Cassandra sighed, and shrugged. 'They're only going to pester you anyway. You might as well.'

Varric and Sera seemed to have turned back into children. They sat on the edge of their seats, almost bursting with anticipation. Arissa rolled her eyes. 'Fine. But you personally apologise to Alistair if he finds out. Both of you.' They nodded, eagerly, and Arissa sighed. 'Kieran was conceived during the Fifth Blight. Morrigan actually helped Alistair and Aurelie fight in Fereldan, although she swears to curse you if you mention it. She learnt of a way to kill the Archdemon without having to sacrifice a Grey Warden. It involved…Kieran being conceived, in a dark ritual. In the process…' Varric had leant forward, breakfast forgotten, fascination in his eyes. 'What?'

Arissa took a breath. 'The unborn child – Kieran – would absorb the soul of the Old God that had been Blighted and turned into an Archdemon. The soul would be cleansed, and Kieran would absorb it.' Sera jerked back in her chair, spilling milk everywhere. Varric's eyes gleamed, and Arissa knew that he was going to write it all down later. 'That – that thing – was an Old God?' Sera sputtered. 'What the bloody hell are we doing here? Oh, shites and pissbuckets, I'm not hanging around!'

'Sera, _calm down_!' Cassandra barked. The elf blinked, registering the fury in her voice, and sat back in her seat. 'There is more to the story than you would think.' She turned to Arissa. 'Please continue, Inquisitor.' Arissa nodded her thanks. 'After Morrigan drank from the Well of Sorrows, we ran into Mythal. She initially agreed to leave Morrigan alone. In turn, she took back the soul of the Old God, and absorbed its power for herself. Clearly, Morrigan has not been left in peace. But the Kieran you see now? The Kieran you met? He is a healthy human boy. No Old God soul or anything.'

Sera's eyes widened, and Arissa resisted the urge to groan. She turned around to face the small boy. 'Hello, Kieran. Alistair.' Alistair was frowning at Sera, and Arissa wondered how long he'd been standing there, listening. She gestured to the door. Damage control had not been the first thing on her mind this morning. 'He wanted to speak to you, Inquisitor,' Alistair announced, still staring daggers at Sera. Shit. Arissa left her party members behind, and followed Alistair out into the courtyard. 'Alistair,' she began. 'I'm sorry. Sera and Varric wouldn't drop the subject and Sera especially doesn't like confirmation of things like Old Gods, she was freaking out, I had to calm her down…' Alistair didn't seem to hear her, and she tailed off, heart sinking into her stomach.

They descended the steps, and Kieran stopped them, turning around to face Arissa. He smiled a little. 'Thank you for telling me the story last night, Lady Lavellan,' he said formally. 'Father says you stayed in the Fade to keep away the nightmares as well. Thank you.' Arissa glanced uncertainly between father and son. Kieran continued. 'The mark on your hand.' He took the offending hand and inspected it. 'It is the Dread Wolf's work.' Arissa blanched. What? Alistair looked surprised, too. This was Kieran's knowledge, then. 'In my nightmare, the wolf used magic. His fur crackled with green light. The magic seemed…familiar. And then I remembered the Breach. And the mark on your hand.' Arissa knelt down to meet Kieran's height. 'Kieran', she began, trembling, 'How did you know this? What else happened in the dream?'

Kieran smiled. 'He realised that I recognised the magic, and asked if I knew you. He wanted to know about you. Whether you were still safe. Whether you were happy. I answered that I did not know, and the wolf got angry. He tried to eat me.' Alistair put his hand on Kieran's shoulder. 'That's enough now, Kieran. Go and play with Connor.' Kieran nodded, and scampered away. Alistair looked to Arissa, looking as startled as she felt. 'Do you think it could be true? The Breach caused by Fen'Harel's magic?' Arissa shrugged, her heart beating fast, a headache beginning. Solas had said that the Breach had been caused by Corypheus's source of power, an ancient elven orb. And seeing how Mythal seemed to be real, it called into question the reality of the other elven gods. Could it possibly be? Was there really a Fen'Harel, a Dread Wolf? And the Anchor? This permanent scar, this brand on her hand – it was his? Arissa shook, frightened to her core. The Dread Wolf – he was the nightmare villain of her childhood, he was the curse invoked by the Dalish towards their enemies. He was the most feared creature. And if Kieran was right…she had his mark on her.

Alistair shook her, bringing her back into the world. 'Arissa? Arissa! Come, sit on the steps. Water, someone! Please!' A glass was brought, and she drank, obediently, but Arissa was still stunned by the news. The Dread Wolf. Responsible for ending her entire culture. And now he, however indirectly, had played a crucial part in nearly ending the entire world. Suddenly, she sprung into action. 'Do you believe that Kieran is safe?' she barked at Alistair. 'Is he cared for? Is he happy?' Alistair blinked, taken aback by the severity of her tone. 'Yes, I suppose. He hasn't complained otherwise, and he would have a home wherever I was.' She stood. 'Saddle my horse. I have to return to Morrigan.'

'Morrigan?' Alistair stood up, too. 'What's Morrigan got to do with this?' He frowned, searching Arissa's face for answers. 'Arissa, please talk to me. Three months ago she showed up here, demanding that I take responsibility of Kieran for the 'time being', and then – nothing! It is as if she has vanished.' Arissa sighed, knowing that Alistair deserved at least something. 'She is…bound. Forced to serve another. Mythal.' Alistair didn't react. 'A Creator. From Elvhenan.' Alistair froze in shock. 'But – the gods? They aren't real, surely!' Arissa took a breath. 'Turns out they may well have been. Mythal, nowadays….she goes by Flemeth.' The reaction was instantaneous. Alistair turned white. 'That old witch? _She's Mythal?!_ Maker have mercy, when I thought she was just a witch was bad enough. Did I ever mention she threatened to turn me into a toad, then turned into a dragon and tried to kill me? Or, that, you know, this practically makes her _my ancient elvish kind of mother-in-law_?' He was hopping mad, agitated, and couldn't sit still. Alistair jumped up and paced around. 'And now Morrigan is in thrall to her? Oh, that must have tickled them both pink! Morrigan _hates_ Flemeth. Something about possession…I never really listened. But she's Kieran's grandmother? What an old cow.' He sighed, a little of the familiar humour beginning to bleed through. 'I had thought family reunions were going to be difficult enough.'

A door into the courtyard opened, and Connor came running through, shouting and being chased by a laughing Kieran. They passed through another door and the courtyard was quiet again. Alistair watched them pass, a sad smile playing on his face. Arissa looked around the courtyard, and saw Isolde staring through the windows, also watching the boys running around. She met Arissa's eyes and turned away, disappearing into the depths of her room. Arissa frowned, and Alistair followed her eyes, seeing Isolde's silhouette. 'She's been a bit…cuckoo for a while now, Teagan says,' he confided quietly. 'What happened with Connor was strenuous enough. Then, after all that business last year – Teagan says she just woke up one morning and her mind was gone. He keeps trying to send her to Eamon, but she won't leave Redcliffe anymore. She doesn't even go into the village.' His voice was sad, and Arissa wondered how much history there was between them.

'I want to come with you,' he said suddenly. 'To see Morrigan. Nothing more than that. I just – I need to talk to her. And I need to get out of Redcliffe for a bit.' Arissa inclined her head. 'Something else you should know,' he added.

'Teagan received word from the Inquisition this morning. They, too, have sent missives inquiring about Morrigan and Kieran. We can stave them off, but I expect no more than a week before they start sending actual people.' Arissa frowned. 'I had hoped to let my friends recover here whilst I went back to Morrigan. They were freaked out enough, the first time they saw her.' Alistair saw reason. 'Let them come. I'll bring Kieran with us. If the Inquisition are coming, they'll want to question him and I. Morrigan will know where I can take him, somewhere safe.' Arissa didn't question his sensible suggestion. 'Tell someone to ready the horses. You go and find Kieran. I'll tell the others.' They split apart, and met about an hour later back in the courtyard. Sera, Cassandra and Varric were armoured to the teeth, and all weapons had been properly restored. Only Arissa still wore her cloak, and she drew the hood over her head as they mounted their horses. Kieran was sitting in front of Alistair – the boy was still young, and light enough that two would not make a difference to Alistair's horse. The Warden himself was dressed in gleaming armour, and a sword and shield fashioned his back and belt. They were about to leave when Teagan came down the steps to bid them farewell.

'I am so sorry to have intruded so suddenly, and to leave in such a similar manner,' Arissa apologised. Teagan held up a hand. 'You are a friend to Redcliffe, Inquisitor. You are welcome whenever you like. My only concern is the Inquisition.' His face grew serious. 'When they arrive – what am I to say about your stay here?' Arissa shook her head. 'We were never here, Lord Teagan,' she answered. 'Neither was Kieran. Alistair only stayed briefly before moving on.' Her face was sad. 'I am so sorry about all of this, Teagan. I promise – I will put this right as soon as I am able.'

She kicked her horse, and cantered down the bridge and under the raised gate. Her companions followed, a stream of horses and cloaks crossing the bridge and disappearing from Redcliffe's view. Teagan sighed. However much trouble it all was, he couldn't deny the quickening of his heart. Adventure…to be able to simply saddle a horse and ride away into the sunset. Quickly, Teagan went back inside, lest he did just that. He had letters to write.


	20. Truth

They had found the stream of sunlight, a tiny thing that gave the small village of Lightspring its name, two days hence, and it was already the sixth time Cullen had banged his dirty tankard on the table. 'Another!' His voice was slurred, his eyes slightly bloodshot, and Cole rolled his eyes. 'No more,' he answered. 'You need a sharper mind.' Cullen looked up at the boy. 'You know what, Cole?' he asked. 'YOU need a drink. A friend for my drink, here!' That did it. Cole hooked Cullen's elbow and dragged him out of the tavern, and into the cool night air. Cullen protested feebly but in his drunken state was no match for the wiry Cole. He managed to shake him off, but only briefly, as Cullen quickly tumbled to the ground. Cole sighed. 'I'm going to leave you here for a moment. Don't go anywhere,' he instructed, and left Cullen mumbling as he ducked back inside the tavern. The woman in the bar looked at him sourly.

'Yes?'

'Please, if you have any water,' Cole began. 'My friend needs a clear head.' The woman glared at him, before reaching behind the bar and bringing out a pitcher of water. 'Bring the bucket back, mind,' she snapped, and Cole thanked her fervently. Then: 'Francis should have told you he was sick. But it wasn't your fault that he didn't.' The woman blinked, confused, and Cole left the room. He just couldn't help it sometimes. 'Cullen,' he whispered, and the man mumbled incoherently. 'I brought water.' Cullen lifted his hand for the pitcher, and Cole handed it to him gently. 'Thank you, Cole,' Cullen murmured, and drank the bucket in five long gulps. He tossed it aside, and Cole scampered to retrieve it. 'Come on, Cullen,' he said. 'We should get back to camp.' He took Cullen's arm and draped it around his shoulders, slowly pulling the soldier up and onto his feet. They walked that way, Cole bearing most of Cullen's weight, for some time, until finally they arrived at the ashes of their campfire. Cole dumped Cullen unceremoniously on the ground, and took some of their stacked firewood, placing it on the campfire's remains. Gently, he lit a fire, and only when it was roaring and warm did he return his attentions to Cullen.

'Cullen,' he whispered. 'Come and sit by the fire. Get warm.' Cullen obliged, and staggered over, collapsing before the flames. 'You are kind for a demon,' he slurred, and Cole nodded, ignoring the drunken slight. 'You needed my help. I will always help.' Cullen sighed, staring up at the stars. 'Tell me, Cole,' he said slowly, 'How is it I came to be like this?' Cole looked puzzled. 'Drunk? You had lots of beer,' he answered wryly. Cullen laughed, before becoming silent and thoughtful. 'No,' he said. 'How did I come from who I was, a lowly Templar guarding mages, to this?' He gestured to himself. 'The Commander of the Inquisition, drunk somewhere in the back end of Thedas, pining for a woman, a mage no less, that I will never call my own?'

Cole looked at him, startled. 'Pining?' He had never heard the commander outright say it before. Cullen smiled sadly, the flames casting shadows over his face. 'Yes. Pining.' He sighed. 'She came from nowhere, wanted nothing to do with the Inquisition. Thrown into it all by simple chance. And then she created the Inquisition, built it from the ground up. Saved everyone. Saved me.' He was silent then, his confession done. Cole sat next to him. 'How did she save you?' he asked, gently teasing at Cullen's mind. He could see a faint golden shimmer caress his thoughts of Arissa, dusting them lightly with a sprinkling of love and care. Cullen sighed. 'I was scared. We were all scared. And even if she was…she wasn't. She just got the job done and then went for a pint with Iron Bull. As if it was normal for her, all in a day's work. She was the most abnormal person I had ever met. And a mage, to boot. A mage, and she protected a Templar, staved off the longing I felt for lyrium.' Cullen fell silent again, and Cole saw his thoughts. 'Lyrium, blue, burning, the same colour as the sky behind her, green eyes, forest eyes, certainty and trust, the longing in your heart becomes for the wild, not for the magic, for her, not for lyrium.' He broke off. Cullen stared at him, wonder in his face. 'How do you know that?' He asked, quietly.

'I want to help. I see your thoughts, your fears. I was a spirit of Compassion before I crossed over. All I have ever wanted to do was to help people and cure their pain.' Cullen didn't reply, and Cole was afraid to look at him, afraid to see the familiar distrust and anger he had seen in Rhys after confessing who he was.

When Cole next looked at him, Cullen was fast asleep. The boy sat there for some time, unable to follow, and pondered all he knew and heard. Cullen was in love with the Inquisitor. When he studied that sentence, the fire seemed to intensify. A warm glow collected in the pit of his stomach, and Cole could see Cullen's true essence – that of kindness, and warmth, and caring. He was the sweet smell of grass after rain. By contrast, Solas seemed to be the opposite. The ancient elf was deceptive, cunning, passionate. To think of his parting words reminded Cole of a thunderstorm – apprehension, the building of power, the clarity of lightning, the passion of the rain. Cullen may be the smell of the grass, but Solas was the storm himself.

Cole lay flat on his back, looking at the stars. Perhaps he could try to find the Inquisitor again. But he had tried last night, and it appeared as though he was banished from her mind. Cole understood why, he didn't mind. But still. 'It hurts,' he said out loud. The fire had burnt low, and Cole stacked another three logs on before closing his eyes, and dreaming until the morning came.

When he awoke, Cole was aware of Cullen groaning in the sunlight. The fire had gone out, but the hangover approaching would last all day. 'I tried to help,' Cole uttered, and Cullen grimaced. 'I know. Fetch me some water, will you?' Cole obliged, and Cullen drank the remnants of his waterskin before standing very slowly. 'Not one word,' he warned Cole, who accordingly stayed silent. 'I propose we go and try that raven keeper again,' Cullen said quietly, holding his head with one hand. 'And no loud noises, no sudden movements – just….keep still.' Cole hid a smile. If Cullen couldn't deal with a silent Cole, there was slim chance that he'd get along with a rookery full of cawing ravens.

Cole turned out to be correct, as usual. Once outside the rookery, Cullen shook his head. 'The noise…I can't, Cole, I'm sorry.' Cole put a hand on his shoulder. 'It's alright,' he promised. 'I will go and ask.' He checked that Cullen would be alright, and stepped inside the dusty building. It was filled with elderly, graying ravens, and their master was just the same. Cole took a breath, filled with pain for the man. 'The ravens are all you have left, all you were left with.' The man stopped, his eyes meeting Cole's with hostility and confusion. 'They were the only ones to escape. It wasn't your fault. You weren't to know Melody hadn't put the fire out. She was too young to know how. You had business to see to. It wasn't your fault.' He repeated this last statement a couple of times, focusing greatly. By the end, the old man was dazed. 'How did you…' he trailed off. Cole took the opportunity to step closer. 'I'm looking for my friend,' he said gently. 'Have you seen her?'

The man looked him up and down, clearly unsettled. 'Your…friend?' Cole smiled and nodded. 'She's an elf. But she was trying to hide who she was. Did you see her?' The old man paused, clearly measuring which action to take. 'She was your friend?' he asked at last, and Cole could have cheered. 'Yes,' he answered eagerly. The old man furrowed his brow. 'Aye, she was in here a few days ago then. Her and some friends. Sent a couple of letters. One to the Free Marches. One to Redcliffe. Paid with Orlesian gold. Then left.' He stopped, fear clouding his eyes. 'I'm not going to get in trouble for this?' Cole shook his head. 'Thank you, thank you, thank you,' he said fervently, clasping the old man's hand. Then he was outside, and pulling Cullen along back to the campsite. 'She was here!' he sang out. 'The Inquisitor travelled here.' Cullen looked a little more alert than before, and a smile lit his whole face. 'Where was she headed?' Cole looked at him. 'She sent a letter to Redcliffe. She sent a letter to her clan as well.' Cullen smiled. 'I knew she wasn't going to Clan Lavellan. We must head for Redcliffe then.' Then he stopped, dread on his face. 'We can't go.'

Cole stumbled to a halt. 'Why not? We could find her!' Agitation coloured his tone and Cullen took a breath. 'I promised Josephine five days. It's been six. We must head back to Skyhold. We'll send Inquisition forces to Redcliffe for us. You can go with them if you like.'

Cole frowned and started to walk again, heading back to the campsite. He heard Cullen call his name, before sighing heavily and doing the same. He was furious. If you loved someone then you did whatever you could to help them. It was the right thing to do! Cullen caught him by the shoulder and Cole swung round, his eyes dark with fury. 'Cole,' Cullen pleaded, 'Come back to Skyhold. We'll put our case to Josephine. We'll see how Leliana is faring. I promise, we'll take the next step. But we must go home first.' Cole hated that he could see both sides of Cullen's argument. Cullen could see them too, and the war inside himself raged angrily. He sighed, the anger dissipating as quick as it had arrived. Cullen was right.

'Let's go home,' he heard himself answer, and this time it was resignation that played on his voice.

As one group was departing Lightspring, another was entering it. Arissa and her friends stopped just beyond the outskirts of the town, and she pondered whether or not to pay another visit to the old man. It was late, however, and looking the tired faces of her companions decided to continue on to the outskirts of the Wilds. There, they'd be able to rest for longer without raising suspicion. Alistair encouraged his horse to ride beside Arissa, and trotted parallel to her. 'Kieran's getting tired,' he warned. The boy was already asleep, his mouth jolting open slightly with every stride. Arissa nodded. 'So are the others.' Sera was barely hanging on herself, and not even Cassandra could stifle her yawns. 'It's not too far. Another couple of miles, and then we'll make camp.' As she looked to the horizon of the Wilds, a figure seemed to materialize in the trees. Pale, tall, with no hair to speak of… Arissa sucked in a breath.

'Solas…' she whispered, and without waiting for the rest spurred her horse into a gallop, flying across the ground. It was only when she got closer and her heart slowed that she realized she was mistaken. There was no Solas, no vhenan. Arissa's heart dropped a little, and she slowly turned her horse around to rejoin the others. Alistair looked at her, concerned. 'Arissa?'

'I thought I saw him,' she said quietly, and the Warden sighed. 'I still think Aurelie's hanging around, sometimes. Don't worry, friend; we'll find him eventually.' Arissa nodded, still lost in thought, and barely noticed when the group reached a safe camping spot. It took Kieran's voice to rouse her. 'Mother is near,' he said, and the entire party stilled. Alistair touched his hair, softly. 'You can tell?' Kieran nodded. Arissa dismounted and came to kneel next to Kieran. 'Morrigan is not far from here, you're right,' she said softly. 'But we need to sleep tonight. I promise, we'll take you to see her in the morning.' She raised her staff, casting wards all around, and with another flick of her wrist conjured bright flames from the small pile of wood. Thanks to Alistair's preparations, he produced wooden poles and cloth, and managed to raise a tent for his son. Sera looked over, intrigued. 'Got any more? Stars give me a headache,' she asked, and Alistair nodded. 'Enough for everyone!' All but Arissa took a shelter kit, and within a few minutes a proper camp seemed to have been established. Varric looked over at the Inquisitor. 'You not going to take advantage of a roof?' Arissa shook her head, settling on the earth. 'No thanks. I like seeing the stars.' Sera laughed. 'Let me guess – you didn't sleep with a roof over your head when you were with the Dalish?' Arissa smiled.

'Got it in one. We only used shelters if it was raining, or about to storm. Otherwise, we made hammocks from the tree branches.' She smiled at the memory. Kieran yawned loudly, and Alistair caught on. 'Alright, alright. Time for bed.' The camp grew still, and silent, until only Arissa was left awake. She twisted and turned, trying to get comfortable, but the image of Solas watching them from the treeline refused to leave her mind. Eventually, she stood up, tired of lying down. Maybe a walk into the woods would do her good. She was right. As she stepped amongst the trees her heart slowed, her stance relaxing. Owls hooted to each other, high in the branches, and the moon shone through, turning the woods a silvery colour. Arissa blew out a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding, and sat, cross-legged. This was where she belonged. Not in Skyhold, not in politics. She was Dalish, and she was part of nature. Maybe, once it was all over and done with, she could return to it. Maybe to her clan, but more likely by herself. It was time she saw more of the world – if the Inquisition had shown her anything, it was that she had so much more to discover than what she had known of in the Free Marches.

A twig snapped nearby, and Arissa was brought out of her reverie. Sitting still as stone, she peered in the direction of the noise. Another twig was broken, and she leapt silently to her feet, freeing her magic to swirl around her hands. A third, and Arissa acted, sending a ball of light flying through the wood, waiting for a face to illuminate. She was rewarded, however, by the snuffling of a badger. The beast was huge – larger than any she had seen before, the size of a dog – but it seemed content to leave her be. It looked at her, as if in disdain. 'Ara seranna-ma,' she whispered. 'I'm sorry to have disturbed you.' The badger watched her, before continuing to snuffle for worms, and Arissa took her leave, returning to the campsite. It was almost dawn before she finally fell fast asleep.

She awoke to the dismantling of the campsite. Both Alistair and Kieran were eager to be off. 'What's going on?' she asked, sitting up. Cassandra looked at her. 'Varric says he thought he saw Inquisition forces. A couple of men – one of them had the Inquisition armour on. We thought it might be better to move into the woods.' Arissa nodded, agreeing. 'Is it alright if you guys break and make camp? I think it would be unfair to deny Alistair and Kieran any further.' The child was practically hopping from foot to foot, he was so excited. Cassandra weighed the size of the camp, then nodded slowly. 'As you wish, Inquisitor.'

Arissa and Alistair mounted their horses, Kieran electing to travel with Arissa this time around. They cantered through the woods, reaching the waterfall faster than when Arissa had made the trip previously. At least this time she knew where she was going. They dismounted, and Arissa again held off the worst of the water, before leading them through the veilfire tunnel. Alistair looked in wonder at the green flames. 'What is this stuff?' he asked. 'Veilfire,' Arissa answered. 'It's an ancient elven thing, I think.' They came out the other side, and Kieran suddenly hared off towards the Altar. 'Kieran!' Alistair called, breaking into a jog after him. Arissa followed, and as they reached the entranceway Arissa saw Morrigan falling to her knees, her arms outstretched to receive her son. Alistair stumbled to a halt, his eyes wary, and Arissa could hear Morrigan sobbing with relief. Wow. Morrigan sobbing. That was a new one.


	21. Bargain

Slowly, Arissa and Alistair moved across the clearing. Morrigan still held Kieran tightly, and she looked across her son's shoulder, thanking Arissa silently with shining eyes. As she recognised the man next to her, however, her eyes narrowed. Morrigan drew herself up, still holding Kieran protectively, and her eyes hardened. 'Ser Alistair,' she said coolly. 'Tis a pleasure, I'm sure.' Alistair looked at her, his gaze sharpening at the protective way she grasped Kieran's shoulders. 'Morrigan.' He gestured to the boy. 'He's missed you a lot.' The Witch's eyes softened as she looked back down at her son. Kieran gazed at her adoringly in return. Arissa sensed the impending discussion, and quietly moved away to let the two talk.

The two spoke quietly and at length, and Arissa had started to think she had been forgotten about when Morrigan called her name. 'Inquisitor Lavellan! Please, join us.' Arissa walked over, and Kieran took her hand. She squeezed it gently and Morrigan smiled. 'I have agreed on a safe haven for Alistair and Kieran to reside. Once my duty to Moth – to Mythal is done here, I will join them. We'll make our plans from there,' she informed the elf. Alistair nodded in agreement. Arissa tilted her head at him, ears twitching. 'What about Aurelie?'

'I will find a way to let her know,' he answered firmly. 'Anora still owes me a favour from back in the day – I'll make sure a message gets sent.' Arissa smiled. 'Well, if she crosses my path, I'll be sure to send her your way,' she promised in return. The Grey Warden grinned, and proffered his hand to Kieran. The boy took it happily, and the two walked away to play in the grass, leaving Morrigan and Arissa alone. The two women watched them, a proud smile playing upon the Witch's lips.

'He is more like Alistair than I would care to admit,' she said softly. Arissa smiled. 'Alistair has been a good father to him, Morrigan. More than you would have given him credit for.' Morrigan nodded slowly. 'Perhaps I misjudged him,' she said. Then her eyes cleared, and she looked sharply at Arissa. 'So. You have fulfilled your end of the bargain. I suppose 'tis my turn now.'

She took a breath, and Arissa shivered slightly with anticipation. 'The elf you know as Solas has been busy indeed, in his time away from the Inquisition. I could not tell you his current whereabouts, but aside from his spell in Skyhold, he spent much time within the depths of the Brecilian Forest. What for, I could not say.' She thought for a moment. 'I visited there, when I fought during the Blight. There was a pack of lycanthropes – we cured them, and they chose to remain with the Dalish camp there.' She smiled knowingly. 'Perhaps he wished to visit them. At any rate, that is where I would suggest you begin your search.'

Arissa nodded, then stopped, a question in her eyes. 'You said last time that you knew about his actions in Skyhold.' She hesitated. 'Please…tell me what happened. I barely remember anything.' Morrigan looked at her, then raised her eyes to the heavens. A muscle twitched in her jaw and she shook her head violently. Arissa watched her. It seemed like Mythal was trying to override her decision. 'I promised!' Morrigan spat, and her mind seemed to calm. She refocused on Arissa. 'You tried to jump,' she said sharply. 'Solas had been watching through an eluvian. Somehow, he managed to break through. He was the one who saved you from falling. Not Cole.' The revelation sent Arissa reeling backwards. She struggled to remain standing, and Morrigan placed a hand on her shoulder, firmly, keeping her upright.

'He was there…' Arissa whispered. 'Why did he leave me?' Morrigan shrugged. 'I could not say. Perhaps the time was not right. At any rate, Solas attempted to leave by the eluvian I left in Skyhold, and Leliana was unfortunately in the wrong place at the wrong time. You were quite right, Inquisitor; the spell used was beyond Solas' power.'

Morrigan suddenly stepped back, her eyes sad. 'I wish I could tell you more, Inquisitor, but I'm afraid that is all I know. Indeed, 'tis all I can say.' As if sensing his impending departure, Kieran ran back to his mother, hugging her tightly around the waist. 'We will come back soon,' he promised to her, and Arissa was touched at the conviction in his voice. Morrigan hugged her son to her, before looking at Alistair. As if reading her mind, Alistair joined in, his enmity with Morrigan put aside for the sake of his son. Arissa stepped back, letting them say goodbye.

Finally, Morrigan broke away from the hug. 'Alistair, it's time Kieran had something to eat.' Her voice was muted, and it wasn't hard to see she was struggling to hold back tears. Kieran looked at her, but did not protest. He knew enough. Gently, Alistair took his hand. 'Come on, son,' he said, and led him away. Arissa stayed a moment more. 'Thank you, Morrigan,' she said softly, and the witch nodded. 'I just hope that fate will play kindly upon us all.'

Back at the new campsite, Arissa related news of Solas's journey to the Brecilian Forest to her friends. They looked crestfallen. 'The Brecilian Forest is literally on the other side of Fereldan!' Sera complained, and for once Seeker Pentaghast agreed with her. 'It is an absurd distance to travel,' she said, and Arissa flushed. 'I'm aware of the distance,' she replied harshly. 'But it's the first solid lead we've had on Solas for six months.' She was still shaken by the truths Morrigan had revealed. It had been Solas who saved her. Something niggled at the back of her mind. A whispering. 'All that time ago…' It was as if Solas was right there, whispering in her ear. She shivered, but a tiny smile traced her face. He had saved her. He still cared for her. She turned back to her friends, certain this was the right decision.

'We go back to Skyhold.' Everyone froze. 'Well, I don't. I will go to the Brecilian Forest on my own.' Cassandra's jaw dropped. 'Arissa, are you totally, completely insane?' Varric asked, incredulous. 'You are not going anywhere without us.' Arissa looked at them all. 'You don't want to go all the way there, and I do understand that. This is my mission, not yours. You all have lives to get back to,' she replied, and no one could deny the truth in that. Sera broke the awkward silence. 'You're the flaming Inquisitor, Quizzy, so you can't use that trick on us. I don't know about you lot, but I'm up for a bit of 'Dalish Living'.' She made quotation marks in the air as she said it, and Arissa grinned. Varric nodded. 'Tough love, Tiny. You're stuck with us.' Arissa turned to Cassandra. She alone still looked doubtful. 'If you want to go back to Skyhold, Cassandra, you know that you are always allowed to.' Cassandra shifted from foot to foot. 'I don't want to go back,' she admitted, 'But I am worried about the Inquisition. I am worried about Leliana, and Josephine and Cullen as well.' Arissa moved to stand in front of the woman, her eyes dark with concern. 'Cassandra,' she said softly, 'I understand. It's really, truly okay.' Cassandra looked at her, gleamings of hope in her eyes. 'Are you sure, my friend?' Arissa nodded, and hugged her tightly. 'Totally sure. Please, please, look after yourself.'

She released Cassandra, and the Seeker gathered her items. The party watched as she mounted her horse, and she looked one last time back at Arissa. The Inquisitor waved. 'Give my love to all of them,' she called, 'And the best of luck to you,' Cassandra called back. Then she kicked her horse into a canter, and began her long trek back to Skyhold.

It was just the three of them left, then. Sera, Varric and Arissa. She mentally began to strategise – they'd have to avoid outright confrontation. Stealth it was. She surpressed a sigh. Stealth wasn't Sera or Varric's strong point. There was a cough from behind her and Arissa turned to see Alistair standing awkwardly. 'Kieran wanted to speak to you.' Arissa dropped to her knees to address the boy. 'What is it, Kieran?' The child took a deep breath. 'I want to go with you.' Arissa's eyes widened. She looked up at Alistair, who seemed equally concerned. 'Kieran…' she began gently, and he stamped his foot in response. 'I won't be any trouble! I'm the son of the Witch of the Wilds! And a Grey Warden! I can _help!_ ' His voice rose to a shriek and Alistair shushed him. 'Kieran, enough. Go and find some food in my satchel.' Son glared at father, before storming off. Arissa rose, looking at Alistair. He sighed heavily, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

'I completely understand that you can't join me,' she said, and Alistair held up a hand, thinking. Arissa frowned. Surely he wasn't considering Kieran's proposal? She voiced as much to him. 'I'm not…entirely…sure that he doesn't have the right idea. I mean, yes, he's a child, but he's Morrigan's child. He's different from the start. That's got to count for something – it isn't as if he hadn't been on the run his whole life. And I'm a Warden. A fighter. I could help you, too.' Alistair explained, and nodded several times. 'Yes, I think that would work.' Arissa's stomach dropped. 'No,' she replied firmly. 'You can't come with me! Kieran is a child – what would happen if there was a fight? He would be in danger every single step of the way. Morrigan would have both our hides.' Even as she spoke, she knew he wouldn't be convinced. Alistair smiled cheekily, and Arissa threw her hands up in defeat.

'Fenedhis!' She looked at Kieran, then back at Alistair, seething. 'Fine. If you really feel this is in Kieran's best interest, then fine. Just make sure he is safe beyond all else. He is your priority.' She spun on her heel and walked away, calling to Varric and Sera about dinner. Alistair's hands twitched with excitement. Back on the road. Oh yes.


	22. Skyhold

The poor horse was exhausted. So was she. The Seeker had travelled for two days straight, hoping to avoid the growing threat of a snowstorm before she reached Skyhold. Andraste herself must have been watching over her, for she passed through the gates into the courtyard just before sundown without so much as a snowflake landing on her. The horse whinnied, distressed, and Cassandra dismounted, spying Dennett, the horsemaster, passing. 'Horsemaster!' He turned, and his face lit in a smile. 'What a sight for sore eyes, Seeker!' Then he saw the horse, and his face grew thunderous. 'What have you done to my horse? And, for that matter, where are half my horses?!' Cassandra passed him the reins, knowing that Dennett wasn't really angry with her. 'My apologies, Dennett. I must see to Leliana.'

She went directly to the infirmary, and heard the sound of voices and gentle laughter before she knocked. A gentle 'Come in!' answered, and Cassandra tentatively pushed open the door. Before her, propped up in bed, was Leliana. She looked positively glowing with health, in comparison to Cassandra's last look at her injured form. Josephine sprang up from her chair, and practically tackled Cassandra in a hug. 'Where on earth have you been? We all thought you'd been eaten by bears! Cullen has been frantic and I've had to sort out the management of Skyhold and Leliana's spies and Cullen's forces –' she broke off, panting for breath. 'You have been gone for almost two weeks!' Her voice grew higher and higher and bright pink spots appeared in her cheeks. Cassandra grinned at her. 'Hello, Ambassador. Spymaster.'

Leliana beamed. She wasn't quite so pale, and what injuries Cassandra could see seemed to be beginning to heal. Cassandra thanked the Maker for the skills of the surgeon they had hired. Josephine gestured to the chair. 'Come, come, you must tell us everything! Oh my, Cullen will want to know you are back – and Cole, too!' She darted out of the door without a second's thought, and Cassandra chuckled. 'I hope she hasn't been this frantic the entire time I was gone.' Leliana shook her head, slowly. 'She's been up and down.' Cassandra looked at her, her smile fading. 'How are you, Leliana? What has happened in my absence?'

Leliana sighed. 'Cullen left with Cole, the night after you all disappeared. He was like a man possessed, according to Josie – absolutely refused to let the trail go cold. It was as much as she could do to give him a time limit. He arrived back yesterday, but immediately sent out soldiers to Redcliffe and to Lightspring, and sent one of my spies to Clan Lavellan. He's hopping mad though – you should be on your guard.' Cassandra sighed, and Leliana saw how exhausted she was. 'Cassandra,' she began gently, 'I will still be here when you have got some sleep. Go. That's an order.' Cassandra nodded gratefully, and retired to her quarters. A feather bed had never seemed so sweet.

She slept for several hours, and didn't wake until the morning sunlight was streaming through her window. Cassandra yawned and stretched, reaching for her clothes, and dressed. She would eat breakfast in the great hall. She left her quarters, returning to Leliana's side. The spymaster was already awake, and reading some reports. 'You are supposed to be in recovery,' Cassandra remarked, and Leliana looked up at her. 'Good morning, Cassandra. You seem well rested.' Cassandra nodded. There was a knock on the wall and Cassandra turned to see Josephine, Cullen and Cole standing there expectantly. She turned back to Leliana, her cheeks turning crimson. 'I suppose you'd better all come in,' the spymaster said. 'Cassandra?' She nodded again, then, once all were ready, began her tale.

'Arissa was determined to find Solas. She was so angry at what at happened – I think she must have been in denial about what he had done. So we travelled to Lightspring, just to cover our tracks, and she sent some letters from there as well. Then we went to Redcliffe, to see if Alistair or his son were there – they were not. Arissa had some idea of…' and here she invented wildly '…of going to Ostagar, to see if Solas had appeared there. I didn't know what her next move would be. But I was tired. I was worried about Leliana. And so I returned.' Cole frowned at her story, and Cassandra widened her eyes fractionally, begging him to be silent. The others failed to notice it, however, and Cassandra quickly asked Cullen for his information. He sighed. 'Cole and I tracked your movements to Lightspring. We knew she had sent letters to Redcliffe and to her clan, but my allotted time was up.' He glanced at Josephine. 'So we returned here, the day before yesterday, and sent soldiers and spies to Lightspring, Clan Lavellan, and Redcliffe.'

Cassandra let out a silent thanks. So Arissa had evaded them after all. Cole straightened, looking at her intensely, and she glared back, daring him to break his silence. Leliana glanced between the two of them. Thinking quickly, she yawned.

'I've had enough talk for the moment,' she said, and gave the reports back to Josephine. She closed her eyes, and Cassandra led them out. She shut the door to the infirmary gently and turned to see Josephine walking away, although Cullen and Cole were both watching her. 'Who's first?' she asked grimly. Cole smiled, and walked away. Cassandra had a funny feeling he would come and find her when he wanted to. Cullen stood there still, waiting. Cassandra let out a breath. 'Alright, hit me.'

'How is she?' The question was asked with such tenderness that Cassandra almost did a double take. Cullen seemed almost nervous. No – he was nervous. He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. 'Arissa, I mean. Is she alright?' Cassandra nodded, slowly. 'She was so focused on her mission, I rarely saw her otherwise.' Cullen relaxed a tiny bit, before continuing. 'Was she angry at me?' Cassandra shook her head. 'She wasn't angry at anyone but Solas, I think. Confused and upset about why he did what he did. If she felt anything else it was kept from me.' Cullen nodded, relieved. Cassandra eyed him curiously. 'Why would you want to know?' He flushed, a pink tinge creeping up his neck, and rapidly made an excuse about work, escaping back to his office. Cassandra smirked as he disappeared, and went to find something to eat.

She had just sat down in the great hall, and was reaching for a piece of toast when Blackwall pulled up a chair in front of her. 'So,' he began by way of conversation, 'How was the great adventure?' Cassandra laughed in spite of herself. 'It was a mission,' she answered. The bearded man leant forward. 'Was it a success?' His eyes burnt bright, and for all his faults, Cassandra couldn't deny that Blackwall was a staunch ally and supporter of the Inquisitor. Perhaps she could trust him. As if reading her face, Blackwall's eyes widened, and Cassandra felt herself about to give in to the truth. 'Promise that this remains a secret,' she commanded, and Blackwall got up and walked around the table to sit next to her. He nodded seriously. 'I swear.'

Cassandra glanced quickly around her, then divulged what had really happened. Blackwall's jaw was gaping by the end of it. 'Hell's bells,' he whistled softly, 'That's a hell of a mission. Is she alright?' Cassandra shrugged. 'Who knows?' she answered. 'She was very shaken at Redcliffe. What about, I could not say. But Morrigan told her Solas was last seen in the Brecilian Forest. I felt it was too far to travel, hence my return yesterday.' Blackwall let out a sigh. 'That's the other side of Fereldan.' The Seeker nodded. 'Indeed.' A tap came on her shoulder and Cassandra turned to see Cole sitting on her other side. She jumped, startled at his appearance. He leant in conspiratorially. 'You lied to the others.' Not a question. Cassandra's heart sank. Blackwall made his excuses and left quickly, clapping Cassandra's shoulder as he left. He wasn't comfortable around Cole, and never had been.

The boy looked at Cassandra accusingly. 'Why is Arissa going to the Wolfswood?' Cassandra looked at him, surprised. 'I've never heard it called that before,' she said curiously. Cole cocked his head. 'It is home to the lycanthropes. Solas talked about them once. He called it the Wolfswood.' Her blood ran cold. 'Solas called it that?' She stood immediately. 'We have to tell Arissa – she knows nothing about the Forest apart from what Morrigan appears to have told her. She could be walking into a trap!'

Cole nodded, fear starting to spread across his face. 'I will go and tell her,' he uttered, and Cassandra shook her head. 'No – you need to stay here. You're our one link to her mind. If we can just get a message to her somehow….' Cole stood. 'I will try and make contact with her. Maybe another spirit will have better luck.' His face brightened suddenly. 'Enansal.' With a smile, Cole darted away, up the stairs and into Arissa's quarters. Cassandra shook her head, the uneasy feeling not quite settling in her stomach. She hoped Cole would be able to get a message to the Inquisitor.


	23. Spirit

_I would just like to say a huge, huge thank you to anyone and everyone who's reviewed, favourited, followed, or even just read to see what this story is like. There's still a lot more to be written - and don't worry, it will be written - but without your encouragement I probably would have given up on this story long ago. I hope that I continue to live up to expectation!_

 _\- Phoenix_

* * *

Cole left Cassandra sitting there, scrambling up to the Inquisitors quarters. He needed something to guide him. Arissa had banished him from her mind, and the only way to establish a connection was to ride in on something else. Literally – the spirit Enansal had been allowed in the night she had sat at the bottom of the bed. Perhaps she would listen if the halla was there as well. There! A link to her past, a tiny carved halla statue sat on the Inquisitor's desk. He grasped it, and fell to the floor, breathing heavily.

Gradually, his heart began to slow, and as he clutched the statue, felt it glowing inside his palm. It wasn't really glowing, of course, but Cole could feel Arissa's emotions attached to it, begging to be felt. He closed his eyes, and felt the memories around him.

 _She was about to leave for the Conclave, about to leave her clan for the first time. Keeper Deshanna hugged her tightly, the old woman stroking the back of her head. Tears spilled from Arissa's eyes. 'I don't want to go,' she murmured. 'I don't want to leave you.' The Keeper nodded knowingly. 'I know, da'len. But you must.' She held her First at arm's length. 'You know the rule about mages. And I wish that you had not been chosen to leave. But at least this way you'll do some good in the world.' Arissa nodded. It was not Deshanna's choosing that she had to leave. But a young len, Rathor, had come into magic, suddenly and surprisingly, and that meant that the number of mages in the clan needed to be cut down. The clan had voted, and it had not come as a shock to see the outcome._

Cole shuddered. He had not known that Arissa had been forced to leave her clan. As quickly as he had left, he delved back into the memory, waiting for the connection he needed.

 _Arissa shouldered her pack, looking back at the people she had known all her life. They had never truly accepted her, a wandering child found by the halla. Only her ears had proved her blood, and Deshanna's attachment to her, strong after her own child had drowned in the river, had sealed her place in the clan. Magic hadn't come into it until she turned fourteen. She looked back at Deshanna, who reached out with a shaking, wrinkled hand, stroking the branches of Mythal she herself had imprinted upon Arissa's cheeks. With her other hand, she pressed something hard and tiny into Arissa's palm. Arissa looked down to see the tiny statue. It was an exact likeness of Enansal, the halla who had brought her to the Lavellan Clan in the first place. She clutched it, fear and love pulsing in equal measure._

There! Cole froze the moment, tying himself to the emotions he felt. Slowly, steadily, he wound them like an invisible thread around the statue, until it seemed to him to be bound in silver. That was important. Cole needed to be able to find it when he was asleep. However, that did not seem to be happening any time soon. It was still the beginning of the day, and he had only awakened a short time ago. There must be something he could do. For a while, Cole passed time by examining the items left behind by Arissa. She had not many items of her own, and what ones she had managed to collect, or bring from the Free Marches, contained exquisite memories and emotions. Cole treasured them, feeling each tidal wave of memory wash over him. Some were particularly precious. Those who had decided to leave the Inquisition, to return to their homelands, were by no means no longer friends, and it seemed Arissa had taken great comfort in writing letters to them. A perfumed piece of parchment, delivered with a Tevinter coin and a map attached, was from Dorian. It only took a single breath for Cole to be moved to a darkened study, towering windows flashing with light as a young mage worked by candlelight. Another letter, from the Iron Bull, promised a visit to Skyhold as soon as the Chargers had finished their mission. Cole smiled as the drunken singing of Bull's men echoed in his ears. Arissa must have been pleased to read those words. And finally, in pride of place on her desk, the painting of Skyhold that Solas had created for her, on a whim. His artistry was unparalleled, it was true, and Cole could sense the emotions attached, lingering in each swirl of paint, each bushstroke. Love curled like a ribbon around the painting, and Cole only had to close his eyes to see the time Arissa had spent poring over it, her love completing the ribbon.

It was early afternoon by the time Cole had recovered from the memories, and he went back to the great hall, sitting at a table and watching others eat. Although no longer a true spirit, Cole still managed to make himself fade – not literally, but enough into the background that others wouldn't notice his presence. He sat through dinner, smiling at Maryden as she sung, her beautiful voice ringing through the hall, and once the skies had darkened outside, the sun falling behind the mountains, made his way back to Arissa's room. He sat in the darkness, holding the halla carving with both hands. He was still holding it as he slept, and as he dreamed of the Fade, found a familiar carving waiting for him, pawing her hoof and snorting.

'Hello, Blessing,' he murmured, and the halla tilted her head at the mention of her name. Tiny stars twinkled in her carved antlers, and Cole reached out to touch one, gently. He looked into the halla's eyes. Dark, luminous, they seemed to be of cavernous depth, and Cole felt momentarily dizzy. She snorted, the spell breaking, and turned away. Cole held his hand out, slowly. 'Please,' he asked. 'She's hurting. I don't know how else to help.' The halla inclined her head, and Cole placed a hand on her mane. Together, they walked through the Fade. A great forest grew around them as they walked, and an elven figure appeared. Cole stopped, and Enansal snorted. Cole lifted his hand and the halla trotted to the figure. A hand rested on her forehead, and Solas murmured a greeting. Then he looked at Cole, his eyes sad. 'Hello, Cole.'

Cole stepped back, afraid. Solas looked different again. This time, he wore gilded armour, contrasting sharply with the blackened cloth he wore beneath. A fire burned in his eyes, and instead of a staff, a glimmering blade rested at his hip. This was not the Solas Arissa knew, or indeed, that anyone at Skyhold knew. This was someone else. 'You aren't what you are,' he said slowly. Solas tilted his head, a questioning look on his face. 'This is not how we know you!' Cole cried out, and Solas smiled sadly. 'Alas, Cole, it is not. If you truly knew me, you would have never let me close.' He saw what Cole was clutching, and his face fell even further. 'That belongs to her. You are in Skyhold?' Cole nodded, and held the carving even tighter. 'I felt her pain,' he said. 'This carving holds a lot of it. I wanted to help her, find her. I thought the carving might help.' Solas nodded, then, hesitantly, held out his hand. 'May I?' Cole shuddered. 'Please, I want to help her too,' Solas pleaded, and the boy relented. Unwilling to step any closer, Cole tossed the halla carving over, and it flashed silver in the Fadelight as Solas caught it easily. He unbound the 'thread' that Cole had made, and as he unwrapped the carving Cole could see the memories play across Solas's mind. He sucked in a breath as he watched, and quickly threw the carving back.

'She was the same as you. Lost, rejected, cast out,' Cole said softly. Solas clenched his fists. 'She thought you were the ground beneath her. And then you left, and then you changed, and she wanted to fall. There was no ground to catch her anymore.' Solas glared at Cole, unwilling tears beginning to brim. Cole's eyes, too, filled with tears, of anger and pain and sorrow.

'You left the one person who might have understood you!' he cried. 'She would have done anything – she is doing anything she can to find you, to bring you back to Skyhold. And you didn't even say goodbye to her. You let her think that you don't care.' Solas turned his back, his shoulders shaking. Cole whistled, and Enansal came leaping to his side. He entwined his hand in her mane once more. Then they turned and walked away, leaving Solas in a darkened patch of trees, a gentle breeze still blowing through the branches.

However much Cole looked that night, walking the Fade, he was still unable to find Arissa. She had hidden herself from him, and the thought of his friend, walking alone and in pain, was almost unbearable to him. He was about to wake when a voice cried out. 'Cole, wait!' Cole spun, and saw Solas. No longer looking quite so grand, Solas had reverted to the clothing he had worn far back when the Inquisition was newly-formed. A pair of rough hide leggings, his feet bound loosely with fur, and a woollen shift. He even had his satchel strapped to his back, and he knelt humbly before Cole. 'Please,' he begged, 'Forgive me.' Cole knelt too, making them even. 'I will forgive you, if you do,' he answered, and Solas buried his head in his hands. 'I can't!' he gasped, as if in agony. 'My failures are irredeemable.' Cole placed his hands on Solas's shoulders. 'And yet to her, they were not.' Solas looked at Cole. 'I must find her. I cannot wait any longer. Cole…give me the halla carving. She will not be expecting my presence in her mind.' Cole shook his head. 'It only works because I'm holding it in my sleep,' he explained. 'It worked on you because I allowed it to. To find her without the physical object would be impossible.'

Solas frowned, before an idea seemed to come to his mind. 'Then I will meet with you physically.' He got to his feet, and Cole did the same. 'I will meet you at the ruins of Haven,' Solas instructed, 'In five days' time. That will give us both time to arrive. There, bring the halla carving, and we'll both dream of finding her.' Cole nodded, pleased that such a plan had formed. There was no doubt that Solas would find Arissa. He always had.

The two departed, and Cole awoke. It was early morning, so early that the stars were still shining, but he was filled with energy, and hurried to the gates. He had to leave as soon as he could. Thankfully, his presence was unimportant, and he passed through them without alerting the guards. Only Cullen, looking out of his window after a particularly disturbed night's sleep, saw the boy fleeing the castle. He frowned, and after watching Cole disappear at the end of the bridge, went to Cassandra's quarters. Perhaps she knew what was wrong.


	24. Haven

Cassandra was sitting by Leliana, talking quietly, when Cullen knocked on the infirmary door. He entered, and both the women smiled to see him. 'Cassandra,' he asked quietly, 'Might I have a word?' Cassandra looked at him, concerned. 'Of course, Cullen. What's wrong?' He shut the door behind him. 'Cole left Skyhold this morning.' Cassandra raised an eyebrow. 'It can go wherever it likes, Cullen.' He shook his head. 'This was…different. He was running down the bridge. And the guards didn't see him pass, I checked. He's run away – literally.' Leliana frowned. 'That doesn't sound quite right, Commander.'

Cullen nodded. 'My thoughts exactly. I want to go and find him. See what could be the matter. For all we know, he could be going to meet with Arissa.' Cassandra stood, determined. 'Let's go, then, Cullen. Leliana,' her voice softened, 'I'll be back soon, I promise.' Leliana waved her away. 'I'll be fine, Cassandra,' she replied. 'Who knows, I might even try sitting outside today!'

The two soldiers marched to the stables, and one look at their faces sent Dennett running to the horses. 'NO!' he bellowed, and people all over the courtyard looked up, startled. 'No more horses! You've still not explained where the other ones are – and you practically rode yours to death, Seeker! No, I'm sorry, I've made up my mind. Get someone else to lend you their horse.' Cassandra stepped forward beseechingly. 'Please, Dennett,' she asked kindly, 'It is for a good purpose, I promise. The horses will be back safe and sound in no time.' It took Cassandra and Cullen more than forty minutes to persuade him to part with two horses, and even longer to saddle them. They didn't set out from Skyhold until midmorning, almost three hours after Cole had left. Thankfully, the sky was overcast, and Cole's footprints showed clearly in the frozen snow.

They followed his path. Where it led, no one could yet tell.

Cole had feared he was going to miss Solas's deadline. He had had to shelter a brief snowstorm, and for the first time, felt the cold for his own sake, rather than for someone else. It was biting, and bitter, and he wished he had brought a coat. All part of being human, he reminded himself, knowing that he had wanted this to happen.

Thankfully, the snowstorm had been brief, and he had made it the sundown before, spending the night in the ruined Chantry. The Inquisition had managed to dig out most of Haven by now, and had even erected a monument. But no one would live here again. There were too many memories, too much pain, for everyone. For Cole, who lived on feeling the pain of others, the amount of suffering here was almost too great. He clutched his head, moaning as he felt the deaths of hundreds slamming into him, over and over. Not much longer. Solas would be here by morning. He would help, as he had always helped Cole.

He slept, and when the sun rose he left the chantry, making his way to the gates of Haven. Cole scanned the horizon, watching for a lone figure to appear out of the snow. The sun rose, slowly, until it hung in the centre of the sky, and still Cole waited. His heart beat a little faster. Where was Solas? He should be here. Cole sat down, cross legged, and waited. It was almost sundown before something happened. But when it did, Cole was unprepared. He had let his guard down, was almost asleep, exhausted, when hands seized him. Cole thrashed, frantically trying to reach his attackers, willing the Fade to weaken enough to let him draw power, but as he was spun to face his captors, chains wrapped themselves around him, tightening until he could barely breathe. Distant laughter in his ringing ears, Cole crashed face first into the snow, wriggling for all he was worth.

'Look at the little one,' a rasping voice said. At his words, Cole felt true horror. He moaned, his head thrashing from side to side. 'The song is wrong!' he cried repeatedly. 'The song is wrong, it hurts, its bleeding, it should not sing like this!' The Red Templars laughed, the sound like breaking china. Each movement of their joints was punctuated by the shattering of red crystal, and each jagged shard of red lyrium hummed discordantly. The remnants of their Templar robes fluttered in the wind, and although Cole wished desperately for help, someone, _anyone_ , he was alone in Haven, at their mercy. And the song…Cole could feel it calling to him, the song still beautiful in its horror, making his head buzz and ache, and his veins itching for its touch.

Something hit him over the head, and Cole fell silent, senseless to the ground. The last thing he heard were feet, crunching on the snow towards him.

Cassandra and Cullen had tracked the runaway to Haven. They stopped on the hillside, surveying the wrecked village beneath them. Cullen's eyes filled with tears, and if Cassandra noticed, she had the kindness not to say. 'So many lives,' he murmured, and hurriedly scrubbed his eyes. Cassandra shifted suddenly, pointing towards the wreckage. 'There!' Cullen's heart sank as he saw the red glints on the armour beneath them. 'No,' he whispered, 'I thought we had destroyed them all.' Cassandra drew her sword, her eyes fierce, a silent snarl shaping her mouth. 'Time to double check that fact, Commander.' What they were doing, however, made even Cullen shake with fury. They were dragging a body behind them in the snow. Cullen almost didn't recognise who it was, until their hat fell off, and was left behind. He let out his breath in a hiss. 'Cole.'

He, too, drew his sword, and the Templar and the Seeker began to descend through the snowy landscape to the remnants of Haven. They reached what remained of Haven's tavern without trouble, and quietly followed the Templars. They had stopped by the furthest trebuchet, and one was pulling it apart for firewood. Cassandra looked at Cullen, a steely determination in her eyes. 'I will distract them,' she whispered. 'Get Cole to safety, and then join me in the fight.' Cullen nodded, unquestioning. They both took a breath, then stepped out into view. The Templars didn't notice them at first, allowing Cassandra and Cullen the element of surprise. Cassandra held her sword like a dagger, her shield ready to defend her head, and lunged, spearing the Templar closest to her. He bellowed like an angry bull, and swiped a claw-like hand at her. Cassandra dodged narrowly, and his lyrium-encrusted fingers clattered on her shield. She darted away, drawing the two soldiers towards her. 'Now, Cullen!' she shouted, and Cullen took the opportunity to dash to Cole's body. One of the Templars, perhaps sensing his intentions, stepped into his path, but Cullen raised his shield, and crashing into the Templar knocked him to the ground. He lay there, dazed, as Cullen ran his sword through the creature's throat, and it died with a gurgling shriek. Cassandra was still grappling with her own enemy, and Cullen looked to Cole. He was still unconscious, blood matting his white-blond hair, and Cullen lifted him easily into his arms. A roar came from behind him, and Cullen swung around to see Cassandra's Red Templar coming towards him. The Seeker had been knocked onto her back by a felling blow, and lay there, dazed and confused. Shit.

Cullen muttered a quick apology to Cole, as he dropped him into the snow once more. He reached for his sword, but threw himself to one side as the Templar swung his greatsword for his head. Cullen crawled away in the snow hastily, waiting for Casandra to get back up on her feet. She was slow, however, and Cullen could see blood beginning to trickle from a wound in her shoulder. Double shit. The Templar lunged again, and Cullen took his chance, throwing himself at the enemy and tackling him to the ground. They fought, Cullen, being the slightly stronger, getting the chance to throw some punches, and it wasn't until a shadow fell over him that he realised Cassandra was standing over them, waiting to deliver the killing blow. Cullen thrust the Templar away from him, rolling over and out of the way, and Cassandra drove her sword into the Templar's heart. He shrieked, and his dying screams sounded like the shattering of crystal. Cullen's head throbbed with pain as the corrupted lyrium whispered briefly to him, before turning to dust at the Red Templar's death.

Cassandra stretched out her hand, and Cullen took it gratefully, as she pulled him to his feet. They looked grimly at the mess, the snow turning to pink slush as the blood poured from the Templar corpses. Cullen remembered Cole, and turned away abruptly. He picked the boy up, still bound in chains, and carried him away, back into the ruins of Haven's Chantry. Cassandra followed, and once inside hunted for decent firewood. She soon had a fire going, and the two warriors focused on breaking Cole's chains.

He heard voices. Distant, as if carried by wind. The smell of grass after rain washed over him, and he smiled, softly. 'Cole? Cole, can you hear us?' The voice was oddly familiar, the throaty accent reminding him of something…something important. Shapes, blurred by memory, passed in front of his eyes. What were they? Where was he? Suddenly, it all came rushing back. Cole. Solas. Templars. The sweet singing of the tainted lyrium. Cole jerked upright, and his head swam. Gentle hands caught him this time, and gently laid him back down on a makeshift pillow. 'Easy, Cole,' a voice murmured, and Cole's eyes had trouble focusing on the windswept blond hair. 'Cullen?' he managed, and a wave of nausea swept through him. What were these feelings!

Cole curled onto his side, clutching his stomach, and saw Cassandra sitting next to him. 'Careful, Cole. Don't push yourself. You were hurt badly.' She swam in and out of focus, the darkness looming at the edges of his vision, and he welcomed it. He gave in to the shadow.

Cassandra watched as Cole closed his eyes, his whole body relaxing. Cullen sat up, alarmed, but she shook her head. 'His body needs to rest and recover. It knows what it's doing.' Cullen snorted. 'Does it? He's not been human for very long.' Cassandra suppressed a smile, and moved closer to the fire, warming her hands. As she did so, she looked around the wreckage of the Chantry. Her eyes were sad as she remembered all the time spent here. The planning, the welcoming of Divine Justinia…the Conclave. The Conclave had been nearly two years ago, now, but Cassandra could still remember the exact moment she had last seen Justinia's smiling face, before she had left for the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Cullen touched her arm softly. 'Cassandra?' The memory vanished and Cassandra returned to the fire. She stared into the flames, deciding upon their next course of action.

'We wait a day,' she said eventually. 'Let Cole recover enough to ride. Then we'll take him back to Skyhold, and ask the surgeon to have a look at his head.' Cullen nodded, approval at her command showing in his features. 'Of course, Seeker,' he replied, and Cassandra smiled. As she leant back on her arms, she winced in pain. Of course. Her stupid shoulder. Cassandra had been too concerned about Cole's wellbeing to think about her own pain, but she was aware of a painful ache beginning to spread. Slowly, gently, she took off her chestplate and shoulder braces, and Cullen drew a breath as the painful gash began to show. She looked at it awkwardly, crossly. Her sword arm would be in a sling for a week. Damn. Cullen got to his feet, and crossed to sit next to her. 'Cassandra, let me.' His touch was gentle but professional, and she sat, as obedient as a child, as he cleaned the wound with a snow-soaked rag, before tearing off the hem of his undershirt and wrapping it around five, six times, making sure the wound was protected and undisturbed. Cassandra stared at him. He shrugged. 'After Kirkwall…exploded, I took some time to help the injured in the makeshift camp. Picked up a few things.' He smiled uncertainly, and Cassandra replied in kind. 'Thank you, Commander.'

She lay down, tired, and Cullen moved back to his place. 'I'll keep watch,' he said. 'You need to rest just as much as Cole does.' She closed her eyes, but when she opened them again sunlight was streaming through the broken roof. Cullen was still sitting, awart, although there were dark shadows under his eyes, and stubble on his chin. She sat up, wincing at the ache in her shoulder, and glared at him. 'What happened to my watch?' she asked, accusingly. Cullen snorted. 'I did wake you! You were awake for all of three seconds before falling back asleep. So I kept going.' He yawned. 'Check on Cole, will you? I need a couple minutes snooze.' Within seconds, he was asleep, his chin resting against his chest. Cassandra rolled her eyes. Men.

She looked to her side, and saw only space where Cole ought to have been. He must have gone outside. Cassandra stood, slowly, and made her way out of the ruin. Cole was sitting on the remnants of a stone wall, watching the horizon. 'What are you watching for?' she asked softly, and he jumped, startled, before turning back to watch the world. 'I was waiting for something. But it didn't happen. That's why I got found.' His eyes creased with anger, and Cassandra sensed the boy had more on his mind.

'Cole,' she began gently, 'What is wrong?' He turned to her suddenly, intensity burning in his pale blue eyes. 'I thought he would show.' Cassandra blinked. 'Who?' Cole looked down, shamefaced.

'I was coming to meet Solas.' Cassandra drew a breath, shocked. 'You were going to meet him? Physically?' Cole nodded, and unclenched his hand. Nestled inside his fist was a tiny wooden carving, one of the Dalish halla. 'It was Arissa's,' he explained softly. 'We wanted to use it to find her, speak to her. Solas needs her.' Cassandra sat down next to him, heavily. She had no words. Cole sensed her confusion, and explained what had happened in the dream, the night he had left. She listened intently, surprise colouring her expression at Arissa's true heritage. So she had never really been part of anything until the Inquisition. No wonder she had been hesitant to lead, if she had been cast out before.

Time passed, and the sun rose to the midpoint in the sky before Cullen emerged. Blinking, rubbing his eyes furiously, he came through the Chantry doors to see both Cassandra and Cole sitting in silence, watching the horizon. 'What are you looking for?' he asked blearily. 'Come on, we should get back to Skyhold.' They stood without complaint, although Cole had a wistful look in his eyes. Softly, gently, he placed something tiny on the stone wall, facing the sun. He looked to Cassandra, and she nodded back at him. 'It's the right thing to do,' Cullen heard her say. 'It won't be disturbed here.' Feeling as if he was intruding, Cullen busied himself with looking for their horses. Thankfully, they hadn't wandered far and he caught them both, checking their saddlebags and their equipment. By the time he returned, Cole and Cassandra were ready to leave. They mounted their horses, Cole sharing Cassandra's horse, and began the long trek back to Skyhold.

As they climbed the hills, and left Haven behind, a solitary figure appeared from behind one of the houses. He strode to the Chantry, as if searching for something. The figure stopped at the wall, and picked something small from it. He raised it to the sun, then brought it to his lips. 'Thank you, Cole,' Solas whispered fervently. He tucked it into his bag, and vanished back into the ruins.


	25. Forest

As Cole was being captured by Red Templars, Arissa was back in the Fade, back fighting the Nightmare. She tossed and turned in her sleep, reliving the pure fear which had tinged every spell she cast. Spiders, minute and giant alike, had filled the arena, and even Nightmare himself had had eight ghastly arachnoid legs protruding from his back, in a terrible parody of wings. Then, she was forced to choose. How she had chosen was still beyond her. Hawke, the brave Champion of Kirkwall, Varric's friend and ally, who had already suffered above and beyond the call of duty. Alistair, hero of the Fifth Blight, with a lover, a child, and ready to die on behalf of his fellow, undeserving Wardens. To this day, Hawke's face still haunted her, the bravery, determination and fear intermingling in his eyes. 'Say goodbye to Varric for me,' and he turned away, drawing a sword and charging Nightmare.

She woke with a scream, sitting bolt upright, her heart hammering. The party, camping on the outskirts of the Brecilian Forest, awoke with similar cries, reaching for their weapons. Sera saw Arissa, pale, like a spirit, and rushed to her side. 'Quizzy! What's wrong?' she asked urgently. Arissa shook her head, tears threatening to fall. She swayed slightly, and Sera pulled her to her feet. 'Right, come on you,' she said brusquely. 'Walk around, walk it off.' Arissa obeyed, mindlessly, Sera guiding her steps. Then, suddenly, she seemed to snap back into life, and took off, haring into the trees and out of sight. Sera gave a shout. 'Wait! Come back!' Alistair and Varric had come to her side, and the three of them watched the trees. Varric was the first to shake his head. 'Don't forget, she's Dalish. Woods are home to her. She'll come back when she's ready.' He walked back to his sleeping sack, affectionately ruffling Kieran's hair as he passed. With a groan, the dwarf settled down, turning onto his side. Sera's eyes were dark with worry as she stared out into the forest. Alistair rested a hand on her shoulder. 'Come on, Sera,' he yawned. 'Varric's right. I'll stay up and wait for her. You get some rest.'

The elf hesitated, before a yawn escaped her throat. 'Okay, okay,' she sighed, 'Maybe you're right. Lemme know as soon as she turns up though, yeah?' And with that, Sera curled up in a ball on her sleeping sack, and was asleep. Alistair sat on a tree stump, watching the darkness. Kieran walked slowly over to him. 'Where's Arissa?' he asked slowly. In a practised movement, he reached out his arms, and Alistair swept him up, sitting him on his lap. 'She'll be back soon,' he promised, smoothing Kieran's hair. 'Go to sleep, little soldier.'

Arissa didn't know where she was running, only that a blind panic had seized her mind. She fled, deeper and deeper into the forest. It grew darker and darker, animals calling to each other, scampering away at her presence. Not even the stars penetrated the thicket of the branches, and it was only as she twisted her head, looking for them, that she crashed to a halt, tripping over a tree root. Arissa went flying, her body slamming against a snarled old oak tree. She lay there for a moment, unmoving, before slowly curling into a ball. Arissa's tears flowed, unchecked, and the image of Nightmare, reaching for her with his spidery wings and gaping maw seared into her mind, again and again and again. Her hand burned, the Anchor filling her face with green light, and for once she was comforted by it. It did its namesake justice – anchoring her to the reality of her world, bringing her out of Nightmare's clutches once more.

Slowly, Arissa felt the fear ebb away, allowing her a clear head for the first time since she had awoken. She sat up, crossing her legs, nestled in between the tree roots. As the fear faded, it was replaced by a sense of unease. She was completely lost. Arissa looked from side to side. Until she could see the stars, she wouldn't be able to retrace her frantic steps. Slowly, hesitantly, she began to walk, choosing her direction at random, hoping that the branches would thin out enough to see the night sky. As she walked, Arissa conjured a spell of light, a tiny glowing orb that floated just a few metres in front of her, giving her enough to see where she was going. She walked for hours, wandering in the dark, before finally entering a clearing. As her eyes adjusted to the sudden space, Arissa was surprised to find the remnants of marble pillars, and beneath the mossy undergrowth there was a delicate, gilded mosaic of an elven face patterning the floor. Her eyes widened at the ruin of a massive door, situated at the other end of the clearing. Above her, the skies sparkled with stars, momentarily forgotten. The Inquisitor stared in wonder at what could only be part of ancient, forgotten ruins of a city of Elvhenan. She fell to her knees, overcome by the sight of her heritage. It was glorious, and for a moment Arissa could imagine the crystal spires, weaving their way into the skies, amongst the glowing marble and gold. She smiled, imagining Solas in her place. He, too, would have been overcome by this preservation, however slight, of their history.

Arissa knew instinctively that she would not find this place again, should she choose to leave it, and debated for a while about what to do. She needed to find the others, true, but something here called to her, begged her, implored her to stay. Sighing, she stretched out her arms and neck, warming her muscles, beginning to pull magic from the air around her. She would need a lot of power for her next spell.

Alistair was dozing, his eyes closing in spite of his promise to Sera, when lightning struck next to him. It hit the campfire, sending the flames roaring twenty, thirty feet in the air. For the second time that night, the party woke up screaming, and Alistair pushed Kieran behind him as he drew his sword. The fire died, abruptly, only to flare again when a second bolt of lightning struck. Varric frowned. 'Now what are the odds?' As Alistair cast his eye to the heavens, searching for a non existent storm, he saw the lightning running back through the sky, reaching down to a point somewhere in the forest. It was a cloudless night, and the realisation sent a chill down Alistair's spine. Kieran was staring at the forest. 'She's calling to us,' he said monotonously. Alistair's stomach dropped. 'Arissa?' Kieran nodded, without looking away, and Alistair hurriedly packed their bags. Lightning struck twice, thrice, four times more, and each time it flicked back to the same spot in the Forest. Sera and Varric followed Alistair's example, saddling their horses for good measure, and as soon as they were ready to leave, they left. Kieran and Alistair led the horses, the young child eerily in control. He seemed tied to the Inquisitor, in tune with her in a way Alistair had only seen him reflect with his mother.

The lightning continued, striking into the sky from a spot further ahead in the forest. They moved as fast as they could, mindful of the tree roots underfoot. It was dawn by the time they caught sight of Arissa. The elf had shed her armour, dressed only in her barest clothes – light brown leggings and a woollen shirt, her feet bare, her hair down and wildly free. Electricity crackled up and down her body, as she moved through a series of movements. Every so often, the electricity would spark, and run in rivulets down her arms, swarming at her fingertips. Arissa threw her arms out into the sky, and a bright flash of lightning would soar into the air above her. The party stopped where they were, dismounting the horses and leaving them in the shade, and slowly made their way into the ancient clearing. Arissa heard their approach and gently lowered her hands, discharging the energy of the sky back into the air around her. Her face was serene, at peace, yet suddenly full of some eternal wisdom.

'Look where we are,' she whispered, joy spreading across her eyes. 'Look at what we achieved!' Sera stepped forward, slowly. Arissa could see her warring with herself – the elf, recognising her ancestral heritage, with the elf, repulsed by all that her ears stood for. Arissa proffered a hand. 'Sera,' she said warmly, 'It's alright. It's alright to be confused.' Sera's ears twitched, and she stepped back between Alistair and Varric. Arissa's face fell. 'Can you not feel the energy here? Can you not sense that this is a relic of Elvhenan?' Varric raised an eyebrow. 'This is a place of Elvhenan? Tiny, you sure you didn't shock yourself with that spell?' Arissa shook her head. 'I can feel it. I know this place like I would know my home.' She sat, suddenly, as if winded. 'I'm so tired,' she murmured.

Alistair strode forward. 'Then let's make camp, and you sleep for a while. You've been in the forest most of the night, silly goose.' She nodded, swaying slightly, and Kieran ushered her to a corner of the clearing, offering his own cloak as a pillow. Arissa accepted gratefully, and fell to sleep in moments, leaving the rest of her party to once again make camp.


	26. Elvhenan

Arissa slept, her dreams twisting and reaching back through time. Her magic was sensitive to the energies of the ruin, and it invaded her dreams, creating a vast and beautiful world around her. It seemed to heal before her eyes, and the ruins turned into a glorious city as she watched. Arissa strolled past the crystal spires, reaching as they did into the clouds. The marble pillars, carved with glowing runes, lit the evening air. Arissa looked at the small groups of elves clustered around the square, their gentle faces framed by dark sheets of hair. Her own, reddish colour seemed out of place, and her green eyes seemed strange to their blue. But she was in a dream, and none sought to question her or her strange, woodland attire. Their own robes, of varying patterns and designs, reminded her of Keeper Deshanna's – a poor imitation of the ancients, she realized now.

'Beautiful, is it not?' Arissa turned in shock to see Solas, staring wistfully around him. She backed away, unsure of his intentions, fearful of his unnatural appearance in her mind. Solas saw the look of her face and his own fell. 'No, please, vhenan, please wait a moment.' She paused, distracted by the pure pleading that shaped his face towards her. Slowly, trying not to startle her, he held out his fist, unclenching it slowly. Inside, resting on his palm, was a familiar carving. Arissa gasped at the sight of it, before hesitantly stepping forward and reaching to take it from his palm. 'How did you find this?' she asked, examining it as if for scratches. 'I had meant to bring it with me.' 'Cole sent it to me. He wrapped a thread of memory around it, and I used it to find your dreams in the Fade.' He smiled at his cleverness, and then looked relieved. Suddenly, she realized how close they now were to each other, and stepped bac. 'What are you doing here, Solas?' Arissa's tone was cold, and the air grew chill in response. 'I needed to find you. Cole helped me. I needed to speak with you. To apologise,' Solas said carefully. She held up a hand. 'I've heard your apologies a thousand times, but they never seemed to stick, did they?'

Arissa turned, made to continue her walk through the square, but a hand stopped her. She stood motionless. Solas, sensing no resistance, made to walk a step closer. 'Cole showed me the memories the halla holds,' he whispered in her ear. 'I'm so sorry.' She shivered, and he brought his arms around her, holding her against him. Still, she did not resist, but Solas felt something wet drop onto his arm. 'Vhenan…' the word was a sigh. 'I had not realised what….I would never have…' Solas released her. He didn't know what to say, or even how to say it. When next he spoke, his tone was gentle, coaxing. 'Arissa…please talk to me.' She spun round, pushing away, out of his arms, her eyes flashing with sudden fury.

'What do you want me to say, Solas? That I know how it was you who saved me from jumping off the balcony? That it was you who asked Cole to make me forget? That it was you who left me over and over?' He looked down at that, shamefaced, and in her anger Arissa continued her tirade. 'And then I decide to go my own way, to run from the Inquisition in the night, on some stupid quest to…I don't know, save you! Do you even need saving? I have learnt some truly terrible things, and I come all the way into the Forest to find you, and…and….ma banal las halamshir var vhen!' She stopped, suddenly unsure. Where had the elvish come from? She didn't mean it, not really, but it was as if the magic of the clearing was clouding her thoughts. Solas stepped back, looking devastated. She shook her head violently. 'Solas, I didn't mean that!'

Solas turned away from her, intent on looking over the ancient city. She went to him, reaching for a hand, and was relieved when he allowed her to grasp it. 'Solas,' she whispered. 'Ir abelas.' The use of elvish seemed to relax him slightly, and she whispered it over and over again. Tentatively, she reached for his face, laying her hand lightly against his cheek. Instinctively, Solas caught it with his own, and held her there. Tears glimmered in his eyes. 'Vhenan…' he murmured, his throat hoarse. Arissa stepped closer to him, and he held her against his chest, tightly, as if he would never let her go again.

They stayed like that for some time, before eventually Arissa broke away. Confused, Solas let her lead him to a gilded bench. They sat, and Solas realized she was twisting her hands around, clearly preparing to say something. He caught her hands, stilling them, and looked warmly at her. 'What is on your mind, vhenan?'

Arissa caught her breath. 'I need someone to talk to. About Fen'Harel.' Solas's stomach dropped. 'What about him?' he managed. She shivered, and he moved closer to her. 'I went back to the Altar. Morrigan was there, in thrall to Mythal. She sent me to Redcliffe.' Gradually, piece by piece, she told the elf of her three weeks, now nearly a month, away from Skyhold. She watched his face almost ripple with emotion as she spoke of Kieran's nightmare. To his credit, Solas did not interrupt her, or ask questions. He was still, and listened. Arissa finished by recounting her feeling of the clearing. 'It was like I had been thrown back in time,' she explained. 'I felt like I belonged back in Elvhenan.' Solas had been listening intently, his brow furrowed since the event of Kieran's nightmare. 'The nightmare with Fen'Harel certainly seems…odd,' he wondered aloud. Arissa nodded. 'That's what I thought. I was surprised he even knew about the Creators.' She cleared her throat before continuing. 'Kieran said something else, too.' Solas looked at her, head tilting slightly. She took a breath.

'You remember when you told me about the orb Corypheus used to open the Breach?' He nodded slowly, eyes wary, watching her. 'Kieran said that in his dream, the wolf…Fen'Harel, had green magic in his fur.' She stopped, unwilling to continue, afraid that by admitting her fears it would make them real. Solas caught her hands, and held them to his heart. 'Vhenan,' he murmured, and she gave a tiny smile. 'Kieran thinks that the Anchor, the Breach – everything that happened, to me, and to the sky – he thinks that it was Fen'Harel's magic, his orb that caused it.' She said it in a rush, throwing the words into the air. Solas sucked in a breath, his eyes unreadable. Arissa looked away. 'If he's right…then I have the mark of the Dread Wolf.' Tears pricked her eyes at this unholy confession. If she was right, then the Anchor would never be parted from her. She would never again be allowed to return to the Dalish. She was a servant of the Wolf, the night terror, the chaos. 'No.'

Arissa looked up at Solas slowly, confusion on her features. 'What?' He shook his head firmly, a fierce expression on his face. 'You do not belong to him. The Dread Wolf did not take servants of the elves – remember the vallaslin?' He touched her cheekbones tenderly, tracing them with his fingers. 'There was none for Fen'Harel, even before the fall of Elvhenan. He did not accept the blood writing.' Solas looked back into her eyes. 'Ar lasa mala revas. You are free. And no Anchor, no mark, would ever bind you to that _thing_.' Solas carried fury in his voice, a quiet anger that made her tremble. She leant against him, needing to feel his skin against hers, and Solas encircled her in his arms tenderly. He held her for some time, and Arissa could sense his attention returning to her dreamscape. She peeked up at his face. There was something unsettled on his features, a sense of disquiet, and Arissa almost reached out to smooth it away, bring peace with the touch of her hand. She stopped herself just in time.

'There's one more thing,' Arissa continued. She pulled away gently from Solas's embrace, and the elf looked at her in confusion. 'When we left Morrigan the second time, I made a quick detour to Redcliffe. I had written to Deshanna, asking about Leliana's injuries. Her response made me…wonder.' Solas leant into her, eager for information. His own attempts to discover what had happened had failed. 'What does your Keeper think?' Arissa hesitated. Solas hadn't denied attacking Leliana. He hadn't admitted it, either, but he seemed far too eager to learn of the spell. 'She wasn't sure,' she lied. Solas's face fell. 'Some sort of ancient spell. Or possession.' She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. 'You weren't possessed, were you?' Solas looked at her with a jolt. So she knew it had been him. 'I don't know,' he anwered honestly, and her lips pressed together in a thin line, turning white. 'I didn't have control over it, which is for certain.' She shook her head angrily. So it was him. Damn it. Tears stung the backs of her eyes, and she pressed her hands against them angrily. When she opened them again, Solas was looking at her, pity and sorrow mingling into his eyes. 'You had hoped it was not me.' It was not a question, and Arissa nodded sadly. Solas sighed, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose, a gesture Arissa knew well. 'I promise, I did not mean her any harm, I swear.' It sounded pathetic, even to his ears. Arissa raised her eyebrows, then rose to her feet. 'I need to wake,' she said distantly. 'I can hear Alistair and Kieran rousing the others.' Solas stood as well. 'Arissa.' He said it in reverence, like a prayer.

She turned to him, her slight stature placing her several inches below him. With a smile, Solas shaped her face with his hands, an intimate and familiar gesture. Slowly, checking every centimetre that Arissa agreed with his actions, he brought her face up to his, leaning down. She was on her toes by the time their lips finally met, and she staggered at the force of her love for him. He caught her by the waist, his lips shaping a smile against hers, and pulled her against him, her arms snaking around his neck in reply. For the first time in nearly a year – nearly a year since that fateful night at the pond in Crestwood – she felt certain of his love for her, and the realisation alone made her want to stay in her dreams forever.


	27. Mah'vir

Arissa woke slowly, a smile already on her face, and her quiet stillness drew attention from the camp. It was Alistair's turn to prepare breakfast, and he looked over at her as she sat up, yawning. 'Good dream?' he asked, and she nodded in return. 'I dreamt I was in the city that this place used to be,' Arissa answered, gesturing around them. 'A place of Elvhenan.' The Warden cocked his head, confused. 'Elvhenan?' Arissa rolled her eyes. Shems. 'The ancient empire of the elves, before the invasion of the Tevinter Imperium.' Kieran had been sitting to the side, playing quietly, but as she spoke of Elvhenan his eyes lit up with excitement. 'Mother told me of Elvhenan.' Alistair and Arissa stared at him. He continued, oblivious. 'They lived forever, and magic was like breathing to them. It's our fault that they fell from grace.' Arissa shook her head, once again duly amazed at the child. She got to her feet and went to his side.

'How did you sleep last night, Kieran? Did you have any scary dreams again?' she asked. The boy shook his head. He looked at Alistair. 'Can I go and play?' Alistair nodded, and Kieran rose, darting into the forest. 'Don't go too far!' Alistair called, and Arissa smiled. 'Someone's become all protective since we left Redcliffe. Were you like this around the Warden?' Alistair chuckled. 'Please. Aurelie needed no protection. If anything, she looked after me. Marvellous stuff.' Arissa laughed, and stood once more. Alistair cracked eggs, no doubt scavenged from a nearby nest, onto the makeshift pan, and the smell made her mouth water as they sizzled. The air in the clearing was bursting with magic, sending a dull pain to the centre of her forehead, and Arissa stretched, swivelling her wrists. Blood rushed to her head, and she swayed on her feet. Alistair steadied her, catching her arm.

'Take it easy,' he said, worry flashing in his eyes. 'Are you alright?' Arissa nodded slowly. 'There's so much magic here,' she whispered. 'More than the Arbor Wilds, at least. My head is bursting with it all.' Alistair dropped his arm. 'Really? That's fascinating!' His eyes were full of awe, and Arissa grinned at his magical inexperience. 'It's a pain in the backside, if I'm honest. I need to..discharge, if you will. It can be dangerous if you're too close,' she warned. Varric was cleaning Bianca, and he looked up. 'Trust me on that one, Grey,' he called over. 'She does a lot of lightning. Sets your hair on fire, if you're not careful.' He patted his own, self-consciously, and Arissa ducked her head, biting her lip. 'You'd better move back,' she murmured, and Alistair took the hint. She moved to the centre of the clearing, and spun slowly in a circle, like a compass. Her arms outstretched, she closed her eyes and began to whisper ancient Elven under her breath, face full of concentration. Alistair noticed that Varric and Sera had scrambled to the very edge of the clearing, and followed suit, the hair suddenly beginning to rise on the back of his neck. He watched the elven mage with both fear and avid curiosity. Arissa's hands began to flare and crackle with magical energy, and her slim form writhed as tiny flashes of lightning leaped around her body. Without warning, she shot her hands into the sky, throwing her head back as she did so. Lightning arced into the air, springing from her skin, and she glowed – literally, it turned out, a golden shimmer covering her skin from head to toe. There was no noise but the sizzling of the lightning bolts, and the echoing as they raced across the sky. It was both terrifying and exhilarating to watch, Alistair thought. It was at that moment that Kieran came running back into the clearing, crashing to a halt mere feet from the electrified mage.

'Father!' he called, confused. Alistair rose in horror, his hand outstretching in warning. He was too late. Lighting sprang across the clearing, encircling the child and shielding him from view. Kieran screamed in panic, and Arissa lowered her hands. Fear flashed across her face as she realised what was happening, but it was too late. The lightning had left her, surging through the air, and Arissa covered her mouth with her hands as it danced in bright white streaks. 'Get him out of there!' Alistair shouted at her, and she nodded. Unaffected by the pure light and heat, Arissa dove into the lightning storm she had created. 'Kieran!' she called faintly, and then there was silence. Alistair and the others watched helplessly as the lightning began to soar back into the sky, dispersing on the winds. Little by little, the outlines of Arissa and Kieran. The child had fallen to his knees, cradling his shoulder with a hand, sobbing with pain and fear, and Arissa had thrown her arms around him, protecting him with her own body from the worst. Alistair ran towards them, and Arissa looked at him as he approached. 'I'm sorry, so sorry,' she whispered. The Warden collapsed to his knees, and Arissa released Kieran into his father's arms. Alistair cradled his son, and Arissa stumbled backwards, pushed aside as Sera and Varric came to Alistair's aid. Tearing away the arm of Kieran's shirt, Alistair drew a sharp breath at the seared flesh, the ethereal, disturbing beauty of the lightning, replicated in minutiae into Kieran's pale, tender skin. He turned to face Arissa, outrage in his eyes, and saw her crumble to the ground, tears spilling down her cheeks. Kieran was still writing in pain, and Sera scrambled over to the medicine pouch, quickly pulling out a vial of green powder, and throwing it to Varric. The dwarf caught it deftly, before reaching for his waterskin. Tipping a little water into his hand, Varric added the powdered elfroot, mixing it to form a paste. He wasted no time in smoothing the grey, slimy-looking poultice over the burn. As he worked, Kieran's cries quieted to a whimper, and Alistair rocked him gently, smoothing his hair. 'It's alright, Kieran, I'm here, everything is going to be alright.'

Arissa was hovering in the background, and Alistair turned his head, focusing his angry gaze on her. 'What?' he asked sharply, and the elf flinched, her green eyes huge and worried. 'I might be able to help,' she whispered, and Alistair snorted mirthlessly. 'Don't you think you've done enough damage already?' Varric looked up from tending to Kieran's arm. 'Hold on now, Grey,' he said cautiously. 'The Dalish are damned good healers.' Arissa nodded fervently, relieved at Varric's support. 'I know a spell,' she said timidly. 'We've used it before in my Clan, with success. He lived.' Alistair stared at her, as the full extent of what she was saying sunk in. 'Are you saying that this-' and here he gestured with an angry hand to Kieran, 'This has all happened before?' Varric and Sera stilled as well, turning to face their Inquisitor, their mouths gaping. Arissa hung her head, sinking to her knees. Tears trickled down her skin in tiny rivulets. Above them, the sky clouded over, and they could hear the ominous rumble of thunder overhead.

Varric, Sera and Alistair watched her as she dispelled the thunder with a firm shake of her head, obviously reigning her wild magic in. The cloud remained, and she doubled over, pressed her forehead to the ground. She stayed that way for a moment, and Varric took the opportunity to plaster Kieran's arm with the rest of the poultice, refreshing the cast where it had begun to dry and crack. He stood, and Alistair watched as Sera bound the arm gently, using both large green leaves pulled from the outskirts of the clearing, and a strip of clean white cloth to hopefully preserve the arm from infection. Alistair was still holding Kieran in his arms, and though the boy was silent, tears still dripped onto his shirt. None spoke, all silently watching the broken elf kneeling in the clearing. Eventually, she raised her head, hesitantly, slowly, her desperate, guilty eyes meeting each of them in turn. She spoke.

'I never meant for it to happen.'


	28. Fireside

Solas awoke suddenly, thrown from Arissa's dream as she left the Fade. He lay there, still, for a moment, allowing himself to revel in everything that had happened; reunited with her, feeling the familiar comfort her slim form against him. It had only been a dream, but it was one he would have been happy to repeat. And Elvhenan. Truly, Arissa was perceptive – or at least, her magic was. It was unpredictable, but Solas had recognised the city, had walked through those streets in memory as well as dream. It had been the starting place of his rebellion. 'Fen'adahl', he murmured. The Wood of the Wolf. How could she be there, know that place? _She must be there physically_ , part of him mused. He knew the wood bore a different name now, the original lost to time, but his soul ached – another part of Elvhenan lost to the humans, because of him. Solas sat up slowly, his head aching as he reached for his waterskin. The halla was still clutched in his other hand, and he set it down next to him, gently.

There was a fire already roaring nearby, and Solas could see the silhouette sitting beside it. As he stood, so did the figure, and as they pulled down their hood he could see Mythal's bare branches across the elven face. 'Abelas,' he said, surprised. 'Why did you follow me?' The ancient elf smiled. 'I thought you might prefer the company, my lord,' he answered, and Solas passed a hand over his face. 'Please, lethallin. If you are to give me a name, I must ask that you use Solas. I am certainly no lord in this world.' Abelas bowed his head in acceptance. 'As you wish, Solas.'

Solas could still hear a faint whispering in the back of his mind, and looked about him uncomfortably. He had taken occupation of the Chantry after Cole, Cullen and Cassandra had left, and the spirits here still called out across the Veil to him. He shivered in spite of himself, and Abelas watched him, before looking around them himself. 'I can feel them too,' he said quietly. Solas was intrigued – he had forgotten the elf was a mage. 'What do you feel?' Abelas closed his eyes briefly. 'Pain, screaming, buried alive. People died here?' Solas nodded, bemused. He had forgotten that the elf had been in uthenera, guarding Mythal's last temple, and therefore knew nothing of the Inquisition – or, indeed, the past few thousand years of history. 'Much has happened whilst we slept, Abelas.' The elf cocked his head. 'But what happened here is recent. And you knew of it.' He sat by the fire, gesturing for Solas to do the same. Solas obliged, settling himself close to the warmth of the flames. 'Will you tell me about it?' Abelas asked, and Solas looked at him for a long moment, before inclining his head. Slowly, piece by piece, he filled the gaps of knowledge for Abelas, talking him through the past two and a half years of the Inquisition's existence. He spoke nothing but the simple truth, for once, including his own shaded past with Corypheus. Abelas said nothing, asked no questions, simply listening to the story unfold. As Solas reached the end of his tale, the Sentinel sighed, looking immensely weary. He stared into the flames of the fire, as if willing them to whisper to him. But the flames were silent, and Solas rose to his feet, his stomach rumbling.

He went to his pack, reaching inside and bringing out a small roll of dried meat. Taking the knife from his belt, Solas split the little bundle in two, and handed a half to his companion. He broke a piece off from his own and chewed it, grimacing as he did so. The taste of the meat was vile, preceded only by the flavour of spiced tea, but it was the only food that he had thought to bring. Abelas was not impressed either. 'This is disgusting,' he said flatly, and Solas couldn't help but chuckle at the expression on his face. He appreciated the respite, however fleeting, he realised. His life had been far from happy. The thought sobered him, and Abelas looked over, noticing the abrupt silence. 'So what is the next step to your plan, Solas?' he asked. Solas looked at him. 'I intend to travel to the Free Marches.' There was a pause, and Abelas let out a throaty laugh.

'You plan to cross the sea?' he chortled. 'Whatever for? Wolves don't swim.' Solas glowered at him, and the air grew slightly chill. 'I have business with one of the Dalish clans,' he growled in response, and Abelas quieted immediately, frowning. 'You are willingly going among these…pretenders?' His hatred of the Dalish was apparent, as was Solas's distrust of them, but he had learnt that there was far more to the remnants of the elves than met the eye. He had learnt Arissa's tell not long after joining the Inquisition – a little nervous twitch, a fingering of the tips of her ears when she lied. He hadn't known whether to be offended or worried when she had lied to him about the Lavellan Keeper's reply, but if he was going to find out the truth of what was happening to him, then he needed to speak to Deshanna directly. He looked around the ruined Chantry, noting how the flames distorted the shadows, before turning back to Abelas. 'The Inquisitor – Arissa – hails from a small, nomadic clan of elves. The Lavellans. From what I have researched, they may have the answers I seek about the spell I cast.' Abelas's brow furrowed. He had tended to Solas after his harrowing escape from the events of Skyhold, and had been told in detail the nature of the spell. Standing suddenly, he collected his few belongings together, and with a whispered word to the flames drew them into a glass jar, attached to his belt by string. A seal plugged the jar, and the magical fire continued to burn, giving a dim light to Abelas's figure. 'Let us journey, then.' Solas looked at him, startled. Abelas was willing to travel to meet the Dalish? 'Abelas, you are under no such obligation-'

'Solas,' Abelas answered firmly. 'You will need my help. Wolves don't swim.'


	29. Revelations

In the clearing, they were still, waiting with bated breath as Arissa began her confession.

'I am not who you think I am.' Varric and Alistair exchanged startled glances. Sera reached for her bow. 'Who are you, then?' she asked, suspicion colouring her tone. 'Who the hell have I been gallivanting around Ferelden with?' Arissa looked at her, her cheeks flushed. 'You misunderstand. My name is Arissa, that part is true! But I am…I am not one of the Lavellan. I don't know who I am.' She said it simply, slowly, a painful truth she had been forced to come to terms with long ago. 'I told Kieran the story of how I was found by the halla. What I failed to mention is that she wasn't of my clan's herd. She was one of the Lavellan. I was too young to know who I was, and the Lavellan clan, at the time, mistrusted the other Dalish. So the Keeper took me in as her ward and raised me.'

Arissa took a breath, her heart hammering against her ribs. This was the part of the story that she hated, the part that still gave her nightmares, even over ten years later. 'The first time I discovered I had magic, I was fourteen. The clan was being followed by a group of slavers – from the Imperium, I think. I didn't realise who they were – they said they knew who I really was, that they could take me back to my rightful clan. I agreed to go with them.' She took a sharp breath. 'I agreed to meet them away from the clan, in secret. They threw me into chains, threatened to-' Arissa broke off, shaking her head as the memories pushed themselves to the forefront of her mind. 'The first indication I had about what I could do was when the storm came.' Varric shook his head as he cottoned on to what she was saying. Alistair and Sera was listening in horrified silence. 'I summoned it out of sheer desperation, a mad wish to kill them all where they stood. Lightning struck, killing the man nearest to me. I didn't realise it was my doing until it struck again, finding its mark and killing another of the slavers. But then a hunter came to my rescue…Darren. He ran into range of the storm, he'd been tracking me since my disappearance from camp. I tried so hard to stop my magic…' She couldn't finish the sentence. Tears poured down her face, and she stifled a sob. 'He survived,' she continued stiltingly. 'Deshanna performed a spell, and he lived because of it. She showed me, in case I lost control again.' Arissa gestured at the limp child. 'Kieran…he would have a scar, a reminder of the energy that he came into contact with. The lightning was brought about by my magic – so my magic is the best chance we have of healing him.' She looked at Alistair, and then back to Kieran, whose breath was beginning to fade. 'Please,' she begged, 'I can save him.'

Varric rested on his haunches. 'She's right, Grey.' He avoided looking at her as he spoke. 'This poultice isn't doing anything.' He was correct. Already, the grey slime was dry and cracking, almost smoking with heat. Sera stood up and walked out of the clearing, vanishing into the treeline. She collected her bow and arrows as she went, and Arissa could almost feel the hatred rolling off her skin. No doubt some poor tree would suffer Sera's wrath. Alistair looked between her and his son. His next words were a pained whisper. 'Do it.' Arissa nodded, hesitating before she spoke again. 'I need to create a circle around us both. No one else can enter the circle whilst the spell is being cast. Her mouth was dry, her heart hammer, and Alistair considered her words, before nodding. 'Fine.' He kissed Kieran on the top of his head, and laid him gently on the ground, before getting up and walking a short distance away. Varric walked away as well, and Arissa moved to kneel before the child.

'Ir abelas, Kieran,' she whispered to the boy. Fingers shaking, she fought to contain her emotions, to settle her magic. She'd need a clear mind and heart if the spell would work. Slowly, concentrating on the image of a grey pebble, Arissa felt her emotions melt away, her connection to magic surging to the forefront of her mind. It was as much concentration as she would ever get. Arissa began to weave, pulling threads of magic from the air around her, creating a glowing web around the mage and child that only she could see. The air grew thick with static, and Kieran twitched. Alistair stepped forward in alarm, and Arissa looked at him sharply. Her eyes were unnerving, the colour dissolving until her eyes were pure, liquid darkness. 'Stay back,' she warned, and he flushed, stepping backwards hastily. She turned back to Kieran, feeling the magic around her humming with anticipation. Now came the part she dreaded, the part she wasn't sure she had enough strength to control. _You can do this_ ¸ a voice whispered in her mind, and Arissa frowned, determination settling over her brow. Within the writhing webbing of the spell, Arissa drew on the crackling energy, holding it, reshaping it, creating another bolt of magical lightning from the magic. Slowly, delicately, Arissa guided the point of the bolt down to Kieran's wound. With utmost precision, the lightning touched the point of impact, and the boy jerked like a puppet on a string, shaking violently as her spell drew the tainted lightning from his body.

There were voices, shouting her name, nearby, but Arissa had no room to address them. She was one with the lightning, feeling the electricity crash through her in a million blasts of energy. She needed to move quickly. Arissa sought the spell that had harmed Kieran, listening for its discordant hum, and caught it in her hands, rising to her feet. In one swift movement, she threw the spell, thrusting her hands outside of the web of magic, and sending the lightning soaring back into the sky. Thunder rumbled overhead, and the lightning raced across the sky, flashing brighter than the sun. It was bewildering; the sensation of both standing on the solid ground, and yet feeling the rush of wind on her face as she danced among the clouds with the lightning, the immense weariness of her body and yet the endless energy of the skies. Arissa could feel all of it, and more, and the magic threatened to overwhelm her mind and take her soul with it. _You must fight it,_ the little voice whispered to her, and it was as if Solas was standing right there, holding her hand, anchoring her. The Anchor itself sparked and spat, and Arissa was pulled to earth. She felt the ground beneath her feet, felt the sigh of wind as it released her mind back to the earth.

She could feel the magic leaving her, and Arissa collapsed, folding into herself as she hit the earth. The spell took everything from her and it was all she could to resist blacking out on the spot. The web of magic had dissolved with the release of the lightning, and she saw Alistair crash to his knees next to his son. The boy had regained a little colour, and his chest rose and fell with regularity. The spell had worked – he would live. Arissa felt the remnants of the spell leave her, and she closed her eyes. Ignoring the distant, frantic voice calling her name, and gave in to the darkness.

The Inquisitor had collapsed, but Alistair had nothing for her, his entire being filled with worry for his son. Kieran's eyes were still closed, and Alistair cradled him, sending a silent prayer to the Maker to save him. Suddenly, his eyes opened, and Alistair blinked, startled, sure he hadn't just seen traces of lightning flickering across his irises. 'Father?' he whispered, and Alistair hugged to him tightly, blinking back tears. 'Oh, Kieran,' he answered, and Kieran snuggled against his arms. Alistair chuckled. 'Your mother would have had my hide if she found out.' Kieran laughed as well. Varric, meanwhile, was tending to Arissa. 'She's completely out,' he announced, sounding worried. 'There's barely a pulse there at all.' Sera reappeared. Clearly she hadn't been far away, and kept sneaking suspicious glances at the sky. Her bow and quiver were strapped to her back, and a scowl creased her face. 'What's wrong with her?' Varric looked up at the sound of her voice. 'She used a spell to heal Kieran, but it's taken a toll on her.' He sighed, shaking his head. 'Ah, Tiny.' He paused, studying the unconscious elf. 'Solas would know what to do.' Another pause. 'She needs to rest.' He stood, and fetched her cloak, wrapping it into a square and placing under Arissa's head. Varric stood over her for a moment longer, before returning to his own belongings. He reached for Bianca, and hefted her onto his shoulder. 'I'm going hunting,' he said. 'Anyone coming with?' Sera nodded, and the two of them disappeared back into the forest, leaving Alistair and Kieran with the unconscious Inquisitor.


End file.
